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REMINISCENCES 


B  U  F  U  S    C  H  0  A  T  E 


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r««  (o  (&«  ct/ot)e.— Tliis  letter,  aa  w«a  very  uaual  with  Mr.  Choate's  hasty  notes,  b«an  no  date  of  the  year.     It  was,  hum. 
written  to  tho  author  in  th«  lummer  of  1857. 

he  allusion  to  the  "  spot  in  the  middle  of  the  eea,"  refers  to  the  place  where  his  correspondent  was  staying  at  the  time— 
;ue  of  land  shooting  into  the  ocean  quite  a  distance  from  the  main  land.    The  allusion  to  "  the  work"  aa  bt.aj  '•  kind  to 


REMINISCENCES 


OF 


RUFUS    CHOATE, 


THE   GREAT  AMERICAN  ADVOCATE. 


BY 

EDWARD   G.   PARKEE. 


"Eloquentium  jurisperitissimus,  jurisperitorum  eloquentissimus." 

BRUTUS,  de  Claris  Oratoribus. 


NEW    YORK: 

OTsT       BROTH 

Nos.    5    &    7    MERCER    STREKT. 


1    860. 


\\. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  185^, 

BY    MASON    B  11  O  T  II  E  11 S . 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


^ 


T.    B.    SMTTIF    &    SON,  O.  A.  A  L  V  O  R  D 

82  &  84  Beekmau-st.,  N.  Y.  15  Vandewater-street  N.  Y, 


TO 


THE    YOUNG   BAR  OF  BOSTON, 

WHO 

LOVED    RUFUS     C  II  GATE, 

C  Ij  i  s     0  0  ht  m  e 
is 


ONE    OF   THEIR   NUMBER. 


56954 


PREFACE. 


THE  lithographed  letter  facing  the  portrait  in  this 
book,  is  inserted  as  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Choate's  sin 
gular  and  celebrated  hand-writing.  It  happens,  also, 
to  authenticate  the  friendly  relations  which  subsisted 
between  the  subject  and  the  author  of  this  work,  and 
to  that  extent  is  the  writer's  credentials  to  the  reader 
for  the  authenticity  of  these  Reminiscences. 

None  of  Mr.  Choate's  speeches  are  given  in  this 
book,  as  the  whole  body  of  them,  it  is  expected,  will 
be  published  by  his  family. 

Many  of  his  forensic  arguments,  however,  are 
given ;  as  some  of  them  are  preserved,  it  is  believed, 
only  in  the  notes  here  published,  and  all  of  them  are 
scattered,  and  difficult  to  find. 

To  those  gentlemen  of  the  Bar  who  have  sent 
him  their  memoranda  of  several  of  Mr.  Choate's 
arguments,  the  author  desires  to  express  his  grateful 
acknowledgments. 


Xii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

PAGE 
RUFUS    ClIOATE    AS    AN    ORATOR, •*-!• 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

FORENSIC  ARGUMENTS,      .         .         .         .          .         .          .354 

CHAPTER    IX. 
MISCELLANEOUS  REMINISCENCES,        .....     489 

CHAPTER    X. 

FANEUIL  HALL  IN  MOURNING  FOR  HIM,  AND  EVERETT'S 

EULOGY, 506 


CHAPTER     I. 

INTRODUCTION     TO     REMINISCENCES. 

THE   HISTORIC   POSITION  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

RUFUS  CHOATE  is  to  be  ranked  as — The  great  American 
advocate.  He  was  an  able  lawyer,  a  shining  statesman,  an 
all-accomplished  man  of  letters  ;  but  these  are  not  his 
glory.  His  was  that  glory  of  which  nightly  he  had  dreamed, 
and  for  which  he  struggled  daily  from  his  first  entrance 
upon  active  life — the  glory  of  the  great  advocate,  the  ruler 
of  the  Twelve.  To  gain  this  particular  attitude  in  history 
he  made  all  his  endowments  and  all  his  experiences  con 
tribute  together. 

He  is  just  buried  ;  and  the  accordant  voice  of  the  press 
and  of  the  public,  however  they  may  differ  upon  other  points 
in  his  career,  rises  in  applauding  unison  to  crown  him  the 
first  Advocate  that  has  appeared  upon  this  continent. 

He  will  be  remembered  always  as  holding,  in  point  of 
forensic  advocacy,  the  same  relation  to  America  that  Cumin 
held  to  Ireland,  and  Erskine  held  to  Great  Britain.  Er- 
skine  and  Curran  had  the  felicity  to  try  some  causes  which 
elevated  their  court  rooms  into  the  dignity  of  national  Sen 
ates.  This  will  always  give  them  in  history  a  quasi  states 
man's  position  ;  but  tried  as  advocates,  as  omnipotent 
wielders  of  the  jury,  Choate  is  certainly  worthy  to  rank 
as  their  peer. 

The  British  advocate,  Lord  Erskine,  lives  still  in  form 
and  stature  before  the  eyes  of  his  brethren  of  the  bar,  in 


14  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

the  monumental  marble  of  his  statue.  Curran,  the  great 
Irishman,  lies  beneath  a  noble  pile  of  granite,  modeled 
after  the  tomb  of  Scipio  ;  to  which  his  admiring  country 
men  bore  his  remains  twenty-three  years  after  his  death  in 
a  foreign  land.  Kufus  Choate  will  sleep  in  Mount  Auburn ; 
and  those  who  shall  read  upon  the  head-stone  that  simple 
name  will  remember  that  when  he  was  placed  there,  Fan- 
euil  Hall  flung  open  her  gates  at  midday,  and  the  first  of 
living  orators  pronounced  his  eulogy  in  the  ear  of  America. 

In  his  lecture  on  the  Study  of  History,  addressed  to 
Lord  Cornbury,  that  oratoric  philosopher  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  after  describing  the  profession  of  the  law  as  in  its 
nature  the  noblest  and  most  beneficial  to  mankind,  in  its 
abuse  the  most  sordid  and  pernicious,  rises  to  a  high  im 
pulse  of  just  enthusiasm  as  he  exclaims  :  "  There  have  been 
lawyers  that  were  orators,  philosophers,  historians  ;  there 
have  been  Bacons,  and  Clarendons,  my  lord  ;  there  shall 
be  none  such  any  more,  till,  in  some  better  age,  men  learn 
to  prefer  fame  to  pelf,  and  climb  to  the  vantage-ground 
of  general  science."  This  sentiment  of  Bolingbroke  may 
aptly  introduce  a  sketch  of  William  Pinkney. 

There  have  been  in  our  country  perhaps  half  a  dozen 
advocates  of  national  repute  as  orators — Pinkney,  Choate, 
Legare,  Wirt,  Prentiss,  and  Ogden  Hoffman  ;  all  of  them 
quite  accomplished,  well  read,  and  widely  learned,  and 
blending  with  the  severer  qualities  of  the  lawyer  the  higher 
and  more  kindling  attributes  of  the  man  of  genius.  All  of 
them  have  in  some  sense  seemed  impressed  with  the  force 
of  this  opinion  of  Bolingbroke  ;  all  of  them  have  pursued 
ideal  excellence  rather  than  gold ;  all  of  them  have  grasped 
that  glory  which  is  far  better  than  gold.  But  among  them 
two  names  stand  advanced  by  general  consent  as  chiefs  at 
the  bar,  beyond  dispute'  facile  pr-inceps — two  men  who 


REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE.  15 

united  in  themselves  more  of  the  essential  qualities  of  the 
advocate-orator,  and  carried  those  qualities  to  a  higher 
pitch  of  excellence  than  all  the  rest — William  Pinkney  and 
Eufus  Choate.  The  mention  of  the  one  vividly  suggests 
the  other.  They  each  had  a  conception  of  professional 
attainments  of  original  breadth  and  splendor.  They  are 
the  luminaries  of  the  American  bar,  each  regent  of  its  fir 
mament  for  his  own  hour — the  morning  and  the  evening 
star  of  its  most  effulgent  day. 

In  some  respects,  too,  Choate  may  be  considered  the 
pupil  of  Pinkney.  He  heard  him  and  admired  him  in  his 
own  youth  ;  he  has  evidently  studied  him  in  his  more  ma 
ture  discipline  of  himself,  and  in  one  prominent  particular 
he  closely  resembles  him — the  mastery  of  a  diction  evi 
dently  learned  up,  labored,  and  made  a  specific  object  of 
constant  effort. 

But  Pinkney,  although  a  very  great  lawyer,  was  not  so 
great  an  advocate.  His  power  was  displayed  in  most  ample 
sweep,  not  before  the  twelve  men  of  the  people,  but  before 
the  bench  of  judges  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court. 
It  was  there  he  met  his  most  formidable  antagonists,  there 
the  ladies  crowded  to  hear  him,  and  upon  him  there  the 
eyes  of  all  the  nation  were  often  fixed. 

Choate's  preeminence,  on  the  other  hand,  was  in  dealing 
with  man  as  man  ;  not  educated,  ermined  man,  but  the 
mere  mortal  man.  Him,  he  could  magnetize  and  master. 

He  accomplished  this  magical  mastery  not  by  a  mere 
transitory  eloquence  of  pathos  and  beauty,  but  by  concen 
trating  vast  energies  upon  that  specific  object.  A  singularly 
powerful  yet  delicate  organization,  a  capacious  yet  prompt 
understanding,  law  learning  enough  for  a  lord  Chancellor, 
and  a  lettered  eloquence  which  Hortensius  might  have  ad 
mired  ;  all  these  were  the  forces  in  array  when  Choate  ranged 


16  REMINISCENCES    OF     II U  F  U  S    CHOATE. 

his  power  in  forensic  action.  And  then,  finally,  Choate  had 
genius,  pure  genius  ;  Pinkney  had  talent,  great  talent,  but 
still  only  talent. 

When  Mr.  Choate's  arguments  and  addresses  are  pub 
lished  by  his  family,  the  world  will  at  first  be  struck  with 
their  extravagance  and  eccentricity  ;  but  a  second  thought 
will  reveal  their  compact  strength— the  cruel  steel  beneath 
the  purple  velvet.  And  men  will  reason  then,  "How  mys 
terious  must  have  been  that  genius  which  could  make 
these  hyperbolical  metaphors  serve  to  strike  conviction 
into  grave  human  hearts  !" 

Some  ten  years  ago  I  heard  Daniel  Webster,  in  Wash 
ington,  say,  "  Eufus  Choate  is  a  wonderful  man  ;  he  is  a 
marvel." 

Edward  Everett,  in  his  Faneuil  Hall  eulogy  upon  Mr. 
Choate,  said,  with  discriminating  panegyric,  "  '  There  was 
no  one  who  united  to  the  same  extent  profound  legal 
learning  with  a  boundless  range  of  reading,  reasoning  pow 
ers  of  the  highest  order,  and  an  imagination  which  rose  on 
a  bold  and  easy  wing  to  the  highest  heaven  of  invention. 
With  such  gifts  and  such  attainments  he  placed  himself, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  not  merely  at  the  head  of  the  jurists 
and  advocates,  but  of  the  public  speakers  of  the  country. 
After  hearing  him  at  the  bar,  in  the  senate,  or  on  the  aca 
demic  or  popular  platform,  you  felt  that  you  had  heard 
the  best  that  could  be  said  in  either  place/  He  said 
Choate's  eulogy  on  Daniel  Webster  at  Dartmouth  College 
had  never  been  equaled  by  any  performance  of  that  kind 
in  this  country.  He  might  have  added  with  truth,  or  any 
other  country." 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  bar,  to  take  honorable 
mtice  of  his  death,  Mr.  Eichard  H.  Dana,  speaking  what 
1  know  must  have  been  lying  unexpressed  in  the  heart  of 


KEMINISCENCES     OF    EUFUS     CHOATE.  17 

every  lawyer  present,  said  felicitously :  "  The  '  golden  bowl 
is  broken/  the  age  of  miracles  has  passed,  the  day  of  in 
spiration  is  over ;  the  great  conqueror,  unseen  and  irresist 
ible,  has  broken  into  our  temple,  and  has  carried  off  the 
vessels  of  gold,  the  vessels  of  silver,  the  precious  stones, 
the  jewels,  and  the  ivory  ;  and  like  the  priests  at  the  tem 
ple  of  Jerusalem,  after  the  invasion  from  Babylon,  we  must 
content  ourselves  with  serving  vessels  of  wood,  and  stone, 
and  of  iron/' 

This  describes  in  metaphor,  but  not  extravagantly,  the 
wide  interval  which  all  Mr.  Choate's  compeers  recognized 
as  existing  between  his  advocacy  and  their  own.  He  was 
the  wizard  of  the  court  room. 

It  has  also  been  truly  said  recently,  by  a  writer  of 
much  observation  of  the  world  :  "  In  power  of  severe  rea 
soning,  and  what  Whately  calls  i  discovering  argument/ 
on  any  question,  Webster  was  the  equal  of  Choate,  and  no 
more  than  his  equal ;  but  in  almost  every  other  quality  of 
a  great  orator,  Webster,  though  great,  was  decidedly  in 
ferior  to  Choate.  If  the  two  men  had  been  speaking  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  same  street,  Choate  would  have 
drawn  away  Webster's  audience,  whether  composed  of  the 
most  common  or  the  most  learned  men.  That  is  the 
true  test  of  the  relative  qualities  of  the  two  men  as  ora 
tors.  We  have  heard  the  best  public  speakers  of  England, 
such  as  Brougham,  Stanley,  now  Lord  Derby,  Gladstone, 
the  late  Sir  Eobert  Peel,  and  others  of  less  note  ;  and 
though  very  able  and  eloquent  speakers,  they  were  not  any 
of  them  the  equals  of  Choate.  Brougham,  in  his  prime, 
would  have  come  nearest  to  him,  but  not  up  to  him.  We 
doubt  even  whether  Erskine  himself,  justly  renowned  as  he 
was,  ever  possessed  the  eloquence  of  Choate,  or  the  same 
command  over  juries.  We  have  not  the  least  doubt,  how- 


18  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

ever,  the  remark  may  shock  those  who  are  imbued  with 
too  blind  and  ignorant  a  reverence  for  antiquity,  that  if 
Demosthenes  had  had  Choate  in  the  place  of  JEschines  for 
his  competitor,  in  the  great  oration  for  the  crown,  he 
would  have  been  beaten/' 

If  Mr.  Choate's  death  calls  forth  such  panegyric,  it  is 
not  surprising  that  when  alive,  and  actually  wielding  "  the 
law's  whole  thunder,"  he  made  his  country  look  in  upon 
his  court  room,  and  enjoyed  a  national  renown. 

I  shall  endeavor  to  present  an  outline  of  this  great 
man's  life,  but  especially  and  fully  to  present  him  as  he 
was  during  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  life.  That  was  the 
period  of  my  personal  acquaintance  with  him.  But  I  feel 
painfully  how  utterly  impossible  it  will  be  to  frame  any 
descriptions  adequate  to  give  those  who  never  saw  or  heard 
him  a  full  impression  of  this  ivonder,  for  such  he  was.  I 
have  heard  it  said,  and  said  truly,  that  although  Webster 
was  a  greater  man,  yet  he  was  of  a  species  of  man  compar 
atively  common  ;  but  Choate,  taken  as  a  whole,  viewing 
him  as  a  man  of  action  as  well  as  reflection,  was  the  rarest 
genius  who  has  grown  up  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Of 
such  a  genius,  how  shall  words  tell  all  the  story  ? 

In  appearance  he  was,  though  in  a  different  way,  quite 
as  marked  as  Webster.  No  one  who  once  saw  him  could 
ever  forget  him.  His  head,  and  face,  and  figure  all  equally 
signalized  him.  That  dark,  Spanish,  Hidalgo-looking  head, 
covered  with  thick  raven  curls,  which  the  daughters  of  the 
black-eyed  races  might  have  envied  ;  and  the  flash  of  his 
own  sad  eyes,  sad  but  burning  with  Italian  intensity — 
What  canvas  shall  ever  bid  them  live  again,  so  that  men 
shall  see  once  more  our  Prince  of  the  forum  ? 

In  the  prime  and  flush  of  his  youth,  when  first  he 
stood  up  before  the  bar  and  the  bench  of  Essex  county, 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  19 

Mr.  Clioate  is  described  as  of  fascinating  beauty.  In  his 
maturity  he  was  not  so  handsome  as  he  was  striking  in  his 
aspect.  It  was  then  the  combination  of  poetry  and  power 
expressed  in  his  looks,  which  was  the  source  of  his  fascina 
tion  rather  than  any  grace  of  feature.  The  luster  lingered 
in  the  eye,  but  his  Herculean  toils  had  driven  away  all 
bloom  from  the  cheek.  Yet  still  the  quick  smile  of  singular 
beauty  illuminated  the  weary  face  of  the  veteran  ;  he  was 
old,  but  his  smile  was  young ;  and  victor  in  so  many 
fights,  with  the  story  of  his  conquering  life  stamped  on 
his  jaded  countenance,  he  must  have  been  quite  as  inter 
esting  a  being  in  form  and  feature  as  when,  in  the  beauty 
of  his  youth,  he  stood  up,  and  Joy  and  Hope  brightened  his 
mantling  crest. 


THE  AUTHOR'S  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  MR.  CHOATE. 

Twenty  years  ago  I  heard  a  man  say  in  the  street  in 
Boston  to  his  companion,  as  they  walked  along,  "  I'd  as 
soon  hear  this  man  Choate  speak  as  Webster."  I  was  only 
a  boy  then,  but  my  young  imagination  about  "  this  man 
Choate"  was  instantly  aroused.  Webster,  to  my  boyish 
apprehension,  was  the  greatest  man  in  the  world  ;  and  for 
any  one  to  say  that  anybody  could  speak  as  well  as  he, 
seemed  to  me  like  challenging  an  Olympian  divinity. 

Five  years  after  that,  a  lady  introduced  me,  in  Wash 
ington,  to  this  rival  sovereign  of  men's  homage  ;  and  a 
little  circumstance  which  followed  led  to  that  more  inti 
mate  acquaintance  from  which  came  the  conversations  and 
observations  which  are  here  recorded. 

I  was  in  Yale  College,  and,  impatient  of  its  various 
restraints,  was  anxious  to  start  off  in  the  world  and  leave 
the  halls  of  Alma  Mater  at  the  close  of  the  junior  year. 


20  REMINISCENCES     OF     It  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E . 

Mr.  Choate  heard  of  it,  and,  with  his  unfailing  and  char 
acteristic  interest  in  young  men,  sat  down  at  once  and 
wrote  to  the  person  who  had  introduced  me  to  him  a  long 
letter  dissuading  me  from  leaving  before  graduation,  and 
setting  forth  the  argument  for  a  full  collegiate  education 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  thought  was  instantly  aban 
doned,  and  the  remainder  of  the  college  course  pursued 
with  far  greater  diligence.  At  the  close  of  the  studies  of 
college  and  the  Dane  Law  School,  he  took  me  into  his 
office  ;  and  from  that  time  on  I  saw  him  almost  daily  till 
the  close  of  his  life. 

How  fascinating  and  endearing  he  was  to  youth  I  need 
not  say  ;  and  for  that  reason,  no  less  than  his  magnetic 
and  marvelous  eloquence,  I  observed  and  studied  him  every 
day  of  my  life  for  ten  years.  During  those  years  many  an 
afternoon,  and  far  into  the  night,  I  have  listened  to  his 
conversation,  not  less  fascinated  than  instructed.  And  to 
deepen  the  impression  of  his  thoughts  and  suggestions,  they 
were  always  committed  to  paper  on  returning  home. 

It  seemed  to  me  then,  and  it  does  now  on  reviewing 
them,  that  his  familiar  talk  was  the  best  revelation  of  his 
genius  of  all  the  ways  by  which  the  inward  man  was 
outwardly  expressed.  The  plane  of  thought  in  which  his 
mind  habitually  moved,  even  when  off  duty  and  in  repose  ; 
the  energy  of  its  action  and  the  richness  of  his  intellectual 
resources  were  there  seen,  stripped  of  the  glare  of  rhetoric 
and  the  enchantments  of  distance  and  parade  which  might 
be  supposed  to  magnify  his  public  efforts  ;  and  I  soon  be 
came  satisfied  that  it  might  be  said  of  him  in  every  field 
of  thought,  as  many  of  his  professional  eulogists  have 
said  of  his  strictly  legal  attainments,  that  he  was  as 
solid  as  he  was  showy.  Strip  him  of  his  rhetorical  plu 
mage,  quench  that  unearthly  flame  of  those  deep  eyes 


REMINISCENCES    O  F  _  RU  F  U  S     C  HO  A  T  E.  21 

beaming  on  a  jury,  calm  those  torrid  heats  of  passion 
which  swept  his  audience  along  in  ardent  sympathy  with 
his  sparkling  sentences, — and  still,  the  great  thoughts,  the 
historical  truths,  the  wise  generalizations,  the  just  judg 
ments  on  men  and  things,  the  intellectual  grasp,  all  were 
only  more  clearly  manifest  in  the  still  clear  light  of  quiet 
conversation. 

Had  he  not  been  brilliant,  he  would  have  led  the  bar 
by  mere  law-learning  and  law-logic,  and  then  no  one  would 
ever  have  questioned  the  tough  texture  of  his  brain  ;  and 
so  he  who  shall  read  these  pages  of  his  familiar  talks — 
when  his  mind  was  not  up  and  on  duty — will  see,  in  the 
themes  among  which  he  habitually  moved,  and  the  intel 
lectual  alacrity  with  which  he  grasped  at  every  topic  sug 
gested,  and  poured  out  instantly  new  and  glowing  thoughts 
about  it,  the  substantial  and  essential  powers  of  his  head. 
He  could  talk  on  any  thing,  and  talk  originally  and  wisely. 
I  think  he  often  talked  more  wisely  even  than  he  spoke. 

His  more  pleasurable  intellectual  exertions  revolved 
back  among  the  ancient  ages,  but  he  was  always  booked 
up  on  all  the  fresh  topics  and  lines  of  modern  thinking. 
His  table  in  his  library  was  covered  six  deep  with  the 
newest  issues  of  the  press ;  and  within  reach  of  the  sofa 
upon  which  he  habitually  lounged  or  reclined,  were  several 
movable  stands  packed  and  piled  with  books;  which  ho 
could  draw  directly  up  to  him  into  more  intimate  contact 
than  the  formal  rows  of  innumerable  volumes,  which  lined 
the  walls  and  rose  rank  upon  rank  from  floor  to  ceiling  all 
round  the  spacious  chamber.  Surrounded  by  these  mute 
friends,  he  loved  to  be  and  to  talk. 


22  REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

HIS     CONVERSATION. 

Let  whoever  would  talk  with  him,  he  would  meet  him 
on  his  own  topic.  With  me,  as  he  would  with  any  young 
man  of  a  taste  that  way,  he  talked  chiefly  of  lawyers  and 
public  men,  their  eloquence,  their  advocacy,  their  charac 
ter  ;  great  historical  subjects,  political  retrospections  and 
prophecies  ;  the  study  of  the  law,  its  best  method  ;  oratory, 
and  the  best  way  to  cultivate  a  genuine  eloquence  ;  the 
great  jury  trials  with  which  he  had  been  directly  or  indi 
rectly  connected,  and  many  other  kindred  themes.  Take 
him  sick  or  well,  lying  down  or  standing  up,  the  flow  of 
his  thought  seemed  always  as  clear,  exact  and  ready  at  one 
time  as  at  another. 

These  conversations  have  seemed  to  me  worth  printing 
for  the  benefit  of  other  young  men.  They  contain  a  great 
deal  that  is  directly  practical.  They  contairi  the  teachings 
of  the  greatest  of  American  advocates  upon  many  of  the 
secrets  of  his  singular  art.  They  express  his  thinking  also 
upon  many  subjects  of  absorbing  interest  to  all  students 
of  law,  of  politics,  or  of  intellectual  development  gener 
ally. 

It  has  been  said  by  a  high  authority,  of  the  first  Napo 
leon,  that  the  talks  of  St.  Helena  revealed  his  fiber  and 
volume  of  brain  as  surely  as  the  fights  of  Austerlitz  and 
Lodi.  "  Let  me  talk  with  a  man,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  "  and 
I  '11  find  out  in  fifteen  minutes  how  much  of  a  man  he  is." 
No  person  of  intelligence  could  talk  with  Rufus  Choate  at 
any  time  on  any  theme  without  coming  away  more  im 
pressed  with  his  absolute  power,  the  long  range  and  the 
steady  grasp  of  his  mind,  than  he  had  been  by  all  his  daz 
zling  outside  public  performances. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     23 

The  bar  of  Essex  county,  where  he  first  practiced, 
are  eloquent  to  this  day  whenever  their  thoughts  turn 
to  Choate's  conversation  ;  and  I  have  known  ladies  at 
a  dinner  party,  who  expected  only  dry  thoughts  from  so 
great  a  man  with  a  face  so  wrinkled  and  so  grave,  sur 
prised  to  find  themselves  enchained  by  his  original  and 
striking  talk,  presented  with  a  manner  of  such  unpretend 
ing  but  assured  power.  And  in  the  capital  of  the  Union, 
at  Washin  ton,  I  have  heard  celeb  :ated  men  say  that  no 
talk  was  ever  uttered  even  in  that  metropolitan  center  of 
every  sort  of  intelligence,  at  all  equal  to  that  which  was 
heard  when  Clioate  and  Webster  got  their  legs  opposite 
each  other  under  some  friendly  host's  mahogany.  The 
sparkle  and  flash  produced  by  such  a  battle  of  brains  vis 
that,  however,  can  not  be  preserved.  The  most  that  we 
can  keep  memory  of  is  the  character  of  his  thoughts,  the 
quality  and  readiness  of  his  information,  and  something 
of  the  style,  whether  dashing  or  demure,  in  which  they 
were  presented.  No  man  can  paint  battles  to  the  life  ;  but 
we  can  always  review  the  regiments,  inspect  the  arms  and 
ammunition,  and  infer  the  deadly  range  of  the  rifled 
ordnance. 

Mr.  Choate's  conversation  was  grave,  rich  and  stately  ; 
yet  always  there  was  a  play  of  humor  glimmering  through 
its  thoughts  delighting  and  dazzling  by  turns.  You  never 
heard  him  say  much,  however  grave,  without  catching 
something  thrown  in  at  once  startling  and  sparkling,  or 
strange  and  mirthful.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  him,  even 
in  his  own  house,  where  of  course  there  was  no  disposition 
to  do  any  thing  for  effect,  either  in  his  library  or  at  his 
table,  fatigued  or  fresh,  without  hearing  him  say  some 
thing  in  that  quiet  and  sometimes  sepulchral  tone  of  his 
which  could  hardly  fail  to  set  a  smile  on  the  grimmest 


24      REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

features.  It  was  not  done  for  effect,  but  the  natural  play 
of  a  great  but  truly  frolicsome  mind.  The  dry,  quaint 
and  fearfully  sober  manner,  too,  in  which  he  would  utter 
these  things  intensified  their  effect  very  much.  As  fre 
quently  in  court  he  would  throw  off"  a  scintillation,  which 
when  repeated  would  seem  not  very  humorous  perhaps, 
but  which  by  his  portentously  solemn  visage  and  manner 
would  set  the  jury,  the  Bench  and  the  audience  into  con 
vulsions  of  laughter. 

Perhaps,  too,  the  contrast  between  the  generally  ele 
vated  character  of  his  diction  and  thoughts,  and  the  com 
ical  or  humorous,  added  to  the  impressiveness  both  of  his 
gravity  and  his  humor. 
/"     His  words  in  talk  were  the  same  rare  and  high-sounding 

/'  words  which  he  used  in  his  speaking.  I  do  not  believe  any 
man  in  America,  if  even  in  the  world  since  Adam,  had 

^such  a  remarkable  vocabulary  of  language  as  he  had.  It 
was  the  language  of  learning,  of  literature,  of  romance,  of 
art,  of  newspapers,  of  slang  even,  all  mixed  up  together. 

V.  But  chiefly,  I  think,  he  delighted  in  long  words — "  long- 
tailed  words  in  osity  and  ation."  I  asked  him  once  how 
he  supposed  that  plain  jury  before  him  of  farmers  and 
workmen  were  going  to  understand  that  deluge  of  dic 
tionaries  with  which  for  three  hours  he  had  overwhelmed 
them.  "  Well,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  they  know  which 
side  I'm  on,  and  they  know  I  spoke  a  great  tvhile,  and 
that's  enough  for  them  to  know  about  it."  He  did 
not  accord  at  all  in  Mr.  Webster's  veneration  for  the 
Saxon  element  of  our  language, — the  words  short,  simple 
and  strong.  He  rather  agreed  with  Thomas  de  Quincey, 
that  the  Latin  element  of  the  tongue  is  needed,  to  bear  in 
upon  the  mind  an  impression  of  general  power,  of  beauty, 
and  of  sensibility.  When  he  chose,  or  the  exigency  de- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  HO  ATE.  25 

mantled,  he  could  salt  down  a  thought  into  the  smallest 
and  snuggest  sentences, — but  he  did  not  generally  choose. 

But  though  his  thought  and  talk  were  all  bookish  and 
smelt  of  the  lamp,  yet  they  were  as  racy  with  the  elements 
of  e  very-day  life  as  they  were  flavored  with  the  essence  of  all 
good  literatures.  The  truth  was,  lie  lived  two  lives  :  one 
alone  with  his  library,  the  other  active  in  courts  ;  the  one 
led  him  in  silence  through  the  memorable  thoughts  and 
splendid  epitaphs  of  the  dead  ;  the  other  in  noise  and  confu 
sion  through  the  jealous  hearts  and  squabbling  tongues  and 
tedious  narratives  of  the  living.  By  both  he  educated 
himself ;  and,  theoretically,  he  knew  men  as  well  as  books. 
I  think  he  was  profoundly  acquainted  with  human  nature, 
under  ordinary  aspects.  He  knew  the  springs  of  men's 
actions,  and,  so  to  speak,  the  secret  history  of  their  words  ; 
and  often  in  examining  a  witness,  he  would,  as  it  were, 
quietly  talk  with  him  familiarly  and  friendly,  and  finally 
dismiss  him  from  the  stand  fully  satisfied  with  himself,  all 
unconscious  that  the  astute  lawyer  had  divined  his  inmost 
secret,  had  drawn  out  from  him  enough  to  show  it,  and 
when  the  hour  for  the  jury  came,  would  honeycomb  and 
riddle  his  evidence.  Yet  he  never  did  this  unless  the 
necessity  of  the  case  demanded  it.  He  treated  all  wit 
nesses  well.  He  was  too  great  to  bully  ;  and  whatever  was 
the  witness's  weakness  or  sin,  Choate  never  harmed  him 
unless  compelled  to  do  so.  But  if  it  became  necessary,  if 
the  witness  lay  athwart  his  verdict,  then  he  was  crushed 
down  and  crushed  up  and  marched  over. 

Besides  the  conversations  alluded  to,  this  volume  is 
designed  to  exhibit  reminiscences  of  Mr.  Choate's  forensic 
and  public  life  for  the  last  fifteen  years  ;  to  allude  to  the 
great  occasions  upon  which  he  appeared,  their  circum 
stances,  and,  in  some  cases,  his  own  personal  remarks  to 


26     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

the  nutlior  upon  them  ;  to  mention  salient  and  sparkling 
passages  in  his  arguments  and  speeches,  interlocutory  dis 
cussions  of  evidence,  and  points  in  the  trial  of  cases — pas 
sages  noted  down  at  the  time,  many  of  which  are  not  else 
where  preserved  or  if  preserved,  are  so  only  in  speeches 
reported  hastily,  and  therefore  imperfectly,  for  the  daily 
press.  Many  of  his  speeches,  however,  have  been  deliber 
ately  reported  and  revised,  and  all  such  will  be,  it  is  hoped, 
carefully  preserved  in  the  volumes  of  his  Works  published 
by  his  family.  In  some  instances,  to  illustrate  a  thought 
descriptive  of  him,  single  passages  taken  from  his  well- 
accredited  reports  will  be  presented,  but  his  Speeches  as 
speeches,  must  be  looked  for  elsewhere. 

After  all,  however,  that  those  who  knew  and  loved  Mr. 
Choate  can  do,  he  will  be  forever  unknown  to  those  who 
never  saw  and  heard  him.  There  have  been  greater  men. 
and  speakers  more  spontaneously  charming  ;  but  there 
never  has  been,  nor  will  there  be,  a  second  Kufus  Choate. 
He  can  have  no  parallel,  he  had  no  rival,  he  has  no  suc 
cessor.  The  scepter  of  his  forensic  empire  sinks  with  him 
into  his  grave.  But  many  men  of  his  own  and  the  younger 
generation,  especially  the  latter,  will  long  love  to  dwell 
upon  his  genius,  to  recall  his  marvelous  feats  of  eloquence, 
to  appreciate  the  masterly  grasp  of  his  vigorous  intellect, 
to  remember  his  fraternal  words  of  encouragement  to  them, 
his  rich  and  cordial  smile,  those  antagonisms  in  which  no 
malice  mingled,  those  victorious  verdicts  which  no  insolence 
of  triumph  barbed  to  the  defeated,  and  all  those  matchless 
qualities  which  made  his  brethren  of  the  bar  feel  prouder 
that  they  belonged  to  a  profession  of  which  he  was  a  mem 
ber. 

At  the  meeting  of  his  brethren  of  the  Boston  bar,  before 
referred  to,  held  when  they  learned  that  the  dead  body  of 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.        27 

their  great  leader  was  on  its  way  to  them  from  Halifax, 
every  speaker,  especially  the  senior  gentlemen  who  had 
been  his  frequent  antagonists,  alluded  particularly  to  his 
unfailing  urbanity  and  his  unruffled  temper.  In  a  pro 
fession  of  forensic  fighting,  he  was  always  himself  at  peace. 
And  his  associates  particularly  remembered  and  recounted 
that  he  was  not  only  unruffled  in  action,  but  in  the  man 
agement  of  his  cause  he  was  always  magnanimous  and  in 
dulgent  to  his  adversary.  Whatever  formal  concessions  he 
could  make  to  that  adversary  which  would  save  him  trou 
ble, — as  of  procuring  extra  witnesses,  of  guarding  against 
surprise,  and  such  things, — this  monarch  of  the  bar  would 
accord  with  a  princely  liberality.  But  the  miracle  about 
his  character  was,  that  with  a  temperament  whose  excita- 
bleness  was  daily  cultivated  on  principle  to  support  his 
eloquence,  his  self-command  was  as  supreme  as  his  passion 
was  stormy.  Though  everybody  else  might  be  in  a  passion, 
and  he  had  made  them  so,  he  was  to  be  seen  as  serene  as  if 
he  had  just  risen  from  the  breakfast-table  ;  though  every 
body  else  was  galling,  ugly  and  ill-natured,  his  words  were 
as  composing  and  honeyed  as  the  utterances  of  a  lady's 
boudoir. 

In  court  or  out  of  court,  a  romantic  interest  always 
seemed  to  invest  him.  With  his  disheveled  locks  waving 
about  his  head ;  his  gloomy  countenance  in  which  grief  and 
glory  contended — the  signature  of  sorrows  and  the  con 
sciousness  of  acknowledged  power — the  oriental  complex 
ion  speaking  of  an  Asiatic  type  of  man  ;  his  darkly  burn 
ing  eyes  ;  his  walk  swaying  along  in  that  singular  gait 
which  made  his  broad  square  shoulders  careen  from  side  to 
side,  like  the  opposite  bulwarks  of  a  ship  ;  his  moody 
loneliness,  for  when  off  duty  he  was  rarely  seen  other  than 
alone  ;  his  self-absorption  of  thought  producing  a  sort  of 


28        REMINISCENCES     OF    EUFUS     CHOATE. 

impression  as  of  a  mysterious  silence  around  him — he 
moved  about  more  like  a  straggler  from  another  civiliza 
tion  than  a  Yankee  lawyer  of  New  England  growth  and 
stature. 

In  his  manhood  as  in  his  youth,  everybody  loved  this 
romantic  man.  It  may  be  said  without  extravagance  that 
in  his  own  section  of  the  country  he  was  the  ornament  and 
dear  delight  of  his  generation.  Men  even  who  utterly  con 
demned  his  politics  and  disliked  many  things  in  his  career, 
still  spoke  kindly  and  fondly  of  "  Rufus,"  as  the  elders 
called  him — of  "  Choate"  as  everybody  else  loved  to  call 
him.  Of  those  that  knew  him  I  do  not  think  he  had  a 
single  enemy  ;  and  of  those  that  did  not  know  him,  he  had 
very  few,  except  of  such  as  hate  mankind.  When  he  died 
the  sunlight  faded  from  the  forum;  and  thenceforth  the 
atmosphere  of  the  courts  became  the  cold,  prosaic  air  of 
daily  business  details. 

His  loss  takes  from  the  profession  its  most  stimulating 
example,  its  most  splendid  and  charming  illustration.  For 
a  season  certainly,  if  not  for  ever  in  our  practical  age — his 
death  eclipses  the  gayety  of  the  Courts,  and  the  luster  of  the 
judgment-seat  vanishes  away. 


CHAPTER    II. 

AND   PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

KUFUS  CHOATE  was  born  in  Ipswich,  Mass.,  on  the  1st 
October,  in  the  year  1799,  and  died  in  July,  1859,  in  the 
sixtieth  year,  therefore,  of  his  age.  He  is  known  to  the 
world  outside  of  his  profession  of  the  law,  chiefly  by  his 
speeches  in  the  United  States  Senate,  and  his  Addresses  to 
the  people  on  political  and  literary  subjects  from  the  caucus 
and  lyceum  Platforms.  But  though  his  speeches  in  Con 
gress  charmed  and  conquered  the  universal  ear,  and  his 
platform  harangues  led  the  feelings  of  great  audiences  as 
moons  lead  tides,  yet  his  true  fame  must  rest  on  his 
professional  career  as  a  legal  advocate.  To  be — The  great 
advocate,  he  gave  the  thinking  and  the  enthusiasm  of  his 
life  ;  in  that  career  he  had  garnered  up  his  heart,  and  on 
that  he  rested  his  reputation.  Whatever  else  he  did  was 
incidental  and  comparatively  accidental.  Had  he  not  been 
sought  out  and  urged  to  other  fields  of  public  service,  it  is 
not  probable  he  would  ever  have  wandered  outside  of  the 
courts  ;  and  when  he  did  do  so,  he  came  back  again  soon 
and  joyfully,  as  if  he  had  returned  home. 

I  do  not  propose  to  write  a  full  memoir  of  him  ;  but  the 
prominent  dates  of  his  career,  and  a  descriptive  outline  of 
him  as  a  lawyer  and  a  man,  may  appropriately  introduce 
these  reminiscences. 

He  grew  up  in  Essex  county,  in  Massachusetts,  with  but 
ordinary  opportunities  of  schooling.  When  he  was  sixteen 


30  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

years  old  he  entered  Dartmouth  College,  but  a  brilliant  boy 
hood  had  already  made  him  sufficiently  known  to  excite  in 
many  quarters  of  old  Essex  great  expectation  of  his  future 
achievements.  His  college  course  increased  these  expecta 
tions.  In  Hanover,  they  said  there  never  was  any  such  boy 
in  college  as  young  Rufus  Clioate.  In  studies  he  was  im 
measurably  and  easily  the  head  of  his  class  ;  and  one  of  his 
tutors  has  since  said  that  long  before  he  left  college  he  was 
qualified  to  be  a  professor  in  any  university  in  America. 
He  indulged  very  moderately  in  sports  or  play.  When  the 
boys  were  kicking  foot-ball,  he  would  stand  or  sit  gazing 
or  soliloquizing  under  the  big  tree.  He  preferred  lonely 
walks  and  his  beloved  books.  -  Often,  he  lias  since  told  me, 
he  used  to  sit  with  his  books  reading  and  ruminating  till 
long  after  midnight  and  far  into  the  morning.  But,  nev 
ertheless,  he  was  not  pedantic  or  conceited  toward  his 
companions  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  all  loved  him  dearly. 
Nobody  envied  him  ;  almost  everybody  idolized  him. 

Of  course,  he  graduated  with  the  first  honors.  His 
delivery  of  the  valedictory  address  is  still  remembered  by 
many  as  very  beautiful,  touching  and  eloquent.  His  ap 
pearance  on  the  stage,  so  singular  for  a  youth — that  face, 
even  then,  pensive  and  poetical  with  the  pale  cast  of 
thought,  the  shadow  of  the  midnight  lamp  even  then  stain 
ing  the  cheek  ;  the  mournful  and  pathetic  tones  of  his 
naturally  soft  voice  ;  and  the  original,  elaborate  and  attrac 
tive  ideas  he  presented,  all  conspired  to  weave  the  spell 
upon  his  hearers,  and,  with  all  his  comrades,  to  crown  him 
in  memory  for  ever  as  the  hero  of  their  hearts. 

After  graduating,  he  taught  school,  but  soon  adopted 
the  law  as  his  profession,  and  fell  upon  the  study  of  it  with 
the  most  eager  application,  as  if  with  prophetic  instinct  of 
the  destined  identification  of  his  renown  with  it.  He  en- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   31 

tered  the  Dane  Law  School  for  a  few  months.  By  this 
time,  very  many  eyes  had  begun  to  turn  to  him  with  a 
fond  interest  ;  and  he  now  left  his  Essex  home  to  prosecute 
his  studies  in  Washington,  in  the  office  of  the  Attorney 
General  of  the  United  States, William  Wirt,  towards  whom., 
in  conjunction  with  William  Pinkney,  the  attention  of  the 
professional  mind  of  the  country  was  then  concentrating 
as  the  two  foremost  figures  on  the  American  forum.  He 
remained  in  his  office  a  year,  but,  as  he  told  me,  he  did 
not  see  much  of  Wirt  himself ;  for  the  Attorney  General 
was  prostrated  a  good  deal  of  the  time  by  a  difficulty  in  his 
head,  arising  from  the  exhaustion  of  his  official  labor.  He, 
however,  had  the  good  fortune  to  hear  the  last  great  argu 
ment  of  Pinkney  and  one  of  the  first  great  arguments  of 
Webster.  He  saw  Pinkney  fall  back  fainting  in  the  midst 
of  that  argument,  and  watched  him  as  he  was  carried  out 
to  return  to  a  court  room  no  more,  but  to  die,  as  he  had 
prayed  he  might  die,  the  unquestioned  leader  of  the  Ameri 
can  Bar.  The  intimate  sight  of  these  giants  of  the  forum 
stimulated  his  aspirations  and  invigorated  his  energies. 
Pinkney,  especially,  excited  his  rapturous  admiration. 
Often,  since  then,  he  has  referred,  in  conversation  with  me, 
to  his  splendid  stream  of  words  and  arguments,  the  rapid 
torrent  of  his  overwhelming  enthusiasm,  the  grasp  of  his 
mind,  and  the  glorious  arrogance  with  which  he  carried  all 
before  him.  Webster,  on  the  contrary,  he  said,  seemed,  as 
he  followed  Pinkney,  infinitely  tame,  jejune  and  dry.  Prob 
ably  from  this  hour  dated  his  critical  study  of  Pinkney' s  ar 
guments  and  speeches.  For  these,  he  knew  thoroughly.  He 
traced  their  gradual  improvement  from  the  first  essays  to 
the  last  crowning  efforts  of  his  life  ;  and  he  was  always 
warm,  in  pointing  out  how  successively  they  grew  richer 
and  stronger  in  diction,  in  form  of  phrase,  and  in  scope  and 


32  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

sweep  of  thought,  "  If  you  want  to  see,"  he  used  to  say, 
"  what  an  immeasurable  difference  there  may  be  between 
different  productions  of  the  same  mind, — read  Pinkney's 
earliest  and  his  latest  arguments/' 

From  these  southern  fields  of  professional  observation, 
ho  came  back  to  enter  the  office  of  Judge  Cummins,  of 
Salem  ;  and  in  September,  1823,  he  was  admitted  to  the 
bar  of  the  Common  Pleas  of  that  county,  and  opened  his 
office  in  the  town  of  Danvers,  near  by.  In  two  or  three 
years  he  removed  to  Salem,  the  shire  town  of  the  county, 
and  in  November,  1825,  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  of  the 
Supreme  Judicial  Court. 

He  did  not  undergo  any  probation  of  patient  waiting  for 
clients,  for  his  success  was  almost  instantaneous.  As  his 
boyhood  had  been  brilliant,  his  manhood  was  meteoric.  He 
took  hold  of  celebrity  as  if  it  were  his  right,  at  once.  And 
very  speedily  he  filled  such  a  place  in  the  public  eye  that 
he  even  began  to  be  followed  round  from  court  to  court  by 
people  interested  to  hear  him.  He  now  applied  himself  so 
absolutely  to  law  that  he  utterly  neglected  literature.  I 
have  heard  him  say  that  his  mind  became  entirely  arid  and 
desolate,  so  exclusively  did  he  study  dry  law.  But,  never 
theless,  all  agree  that  no  New  England  court  of  justice  had 
ever  before  seen  such  charming  fervor  thrown  into  its  dull 
discussions,  or  heard  the  ancient  decisions  of  Saxon  law  set 
forth  with  the  grace  of  such  Grecian  rhetoric.  And  all  now 
agree,  also,  that  his  mastery  of  naked  law  and  the  athletic 
action  of  his  understanding  are  the  qualities  which  any  one 
must  admit,  who  endeavors  to  account  for  the  success  of  his 
apparent  audacity  in  grappling  at  once  with  the  most  form 
idable  and  experienced  leaders  of  the  local  bar. 

From  the  very  first,  however,  in  the  management  of  his 
cases  he  went  for  victory.  Ambitious  of  reputation,  he  still 


REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.  33 

looked  witli  a  single  eye  to  getting  the  verdict.  And  he 
would  sacrifice  his  rhetoric  and  his  preparation  at  any  time 
to  make  any  headway  towards  that  goal.  Within  a  few 
years  he  has  said  that  at  first  in  his  practice,,  although  he 
knew  the  law  of  a  case,  yet  he  would  be  careless  about 
presenting  it  in  a  manner  to  gain  the  admiration  of  the 
judge,  provided  he  could  thereby  gain  the  approbation 
of  the  jury.  And  even  if  he  knew  his  law  was  so  bad 
that  his  verdict  when  gained  would  probably  not  stand, 
still  he  always  struck  for  that  verdict  nevertheless.  Na 
poleon,  he  said,  used  to  conquer  first,  and  negotiate  after 
wards  ;  and  on  somewhat  the  same  principle,  I  think,  he 
would  win  his  case  first,  and  fight  through  the  law  with 
the  judges  in  the  best  way  he  could  after  the  jury  were 
dismissed. 

But-  it  was  all  done  from  high  springs  of  ambition.  The 
sense  of  power  and  the  love  of  glory,  not  at  all  the  glitter 
of  gold,  moved  his  clear  spirit.  He  never  seemed  to  me  to 
have  any  sense  of  the  meaning  or  value  of  money.  Until 
very  late  in  life,  when  he  took  his  son-in-law  into  partner 
ship  with  him,  he  never  collected  or  even  knew  what  was 
due  to  him,  except  under  a  spasmodic  impulse  of  neces 
sity. 

In  1825  he  was  elected  a  representative  to  the  Massachu 
setts  Legislature,  and  in  1827  he  was  a  member  of  the  State 
Senate.  In  1832  he  was  chosen  to  represent  the  Essex 
district  in  Congress,  but  declined  a  reelection.  In  these 
occasional  forays  into  politics  he  distinguished  himself  by 
set  speeches,  florid,  erudite,,  and  fervid.  Such  were  his  ex- 
haustless  literary  resources  that  he  touched  nothing  which 
he  did  not  adorn.  He  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  for 
the  political  drudgery,  and,  therefore,  did  little  of  the  de 
tail  business  of  politics  in  the  committee  rooms  or  on  the 


34   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

floor.     To  the  drudgery  of  law  only,  would  he  consent  to 
buckle  down  his  fiery  and  impatient  genius. 


HIS    EARLY     PROFESSIONAL     LIFE. 

Several  of  Mr.  Choate' s  early  friends,  classmates,  towns 
men,  or  acquaintances  have  put  on  record  their  recollec 
tions  of  the  way  he  struck  their  world  during  these  first 
years.  No  outline  of  his  life  would  be  at  all  satisfactory 
which  did  not  give  at  least  some  idea  of  a  dawning  so 
resplendent.  I  have  therefore  collected  from  all  the 
accounts  the  following  sketch  of  his  college  career  and 
his  Essex  county  life  : 

"  Mr.  Choate  was  so  far  a  wonderful  man  that  full  justice 
is  not  yet  done  to  his  amazing  attributes  of  mind.  From 
boyhood  he  was  a  marvel  and  a  prodigy.  When"  at  the 
academy,  the  reputation  of  his  brilliant  scholarship  pre 
ceded  him  to  college.  The  writer  of  this  sketch  has  often 
heard  his  father,  who  was  a  classmate  of  Mr.  Choate  in 
college,  speak  of  his  already  wonderful  scholarship,  that 
placed  him  head  and  shoulders  above  all  his  companions, 
though  the  accurate  and  learned  George  P.  Marsh,  of  Ver 
mont,  late  American  minister  to  Constantinople,  was  one 
of  them.  No  one  thought  of  disputing  his  supremacy,  foi 
he  WAS  facile  princeps.  His  passion  for  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  was  unconquerable.  He  came  to  the  recitation 
room  haggard  and  worn,  with  throbbing  temples  and  ex 
hausted  frame  ;  but  everybody  knew  he  had  out  watched 
the  Bear,  and  was  pursuing  the  beauties  of  Greek  and 
Latin  literature  far  beyond  the  then  narrow  curriculum 
of  college  studies.  The  classmates  recall  with  delight  the 
elegant  felicity  of  his  translations,  that  made  the  heavy 
task  a  'dream  of  poetry.  When,  as  the  valedictorian  of 


E  E  M  i  N  1  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     O  F  ,   R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  .       35 

his  class,  he  bade  them  farewell  with  mournful  pathos, 
many  an  eye  in  the  old  church  was  wet  with  sympathy 
for  him  whose  youthful  promise  seemed  likely  to  be 
quenched  at  its  early  dawning.  Yet  he  lived  to  be  for 
more  than  a  generation  the  favorite  and  cherished  son  of 
his  Alma  Mater.  And  he  loved  her  with  an  unfailing  affec- 

O 

tion.  Beneath  the  venerable  walls  of  Dartmouth  he  mar 
ried  the  wife  of  his  youth.  Thither  he  loved  to  return  ; 
there  more  than  once,  in  the  old  church  where  he  had  won 
his  earliest  triumph,  he  electrified  cultivated  and  delighted 
audiences  with  the  long-drawn  strains  of  his  matchless 
eloquence." 

The  foregoing  is  from  an  account  written  by  a  gentle 
man  in  Wisconsin.  The  following  is  by  a  gentleman  of 
Salem,  and  was  written  in  1858 : 

"  Mr.  Choate  was  admitted  an  attorney  of  the  Court 
of  Common  Pleas,  in  this  county,  at  the  September  term, 
1823,  having  completed  his  professional  studies  in  the 
office  of  the  late  Judge  Cummins,  then  of  Salem,  and  one 
of  the  leaders  of  the  Essex  bar.  At  the  November  term 
of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  in  this  county,  in  1825,  he 
was  admitted  an  attorney  of  that  court.  At  that  period, 
the  bar  of  this  county  was  adorned  and  illustrated  by  able 
and  learned  lawyers — by  men  of  large  experience  and  high 
character,  who  have  filled  with  honor  and  distinction  high 
official  positions  in  the  county  and  State.  It  is  doing  no 
injustice  to  any  of  those  eminent  men  and  lawyers  to  say, 
that  Mr.  Choate,  upon  his  first  introduction  to  the  practice, 
l )laced  himself  at  once  in  the  very  front  rank  of  the  profes 
sion.  All  felt  and  acknowledged,  that  if  not  a  Daniel  had 
come  to  judgment,  one  very  much  like  him  had  come.  He 
was  retained  at  once  in  important  causes,  and  was  imme 
diately  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Essex  bar  He  monopo- 


36         REMINISCENCES     OF      RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

lized  the  practice  on  the  criminal  side  of  the  courts,  first 
in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  afterwards  in  the  Su 
preme  Court,  on  his  admission  to  full  practice  at  the  bar. 
At  that  period  the  criminal  jurisdiction  was  in  both  courts, 
the  higher  offenses  being  cognizable  only  in  the  Supreme 
Court.  Mr.  Choate  used  to  be  regarded  as  the  Attorney 
General  for  all  the  criminals  arraigned  in  those  courts. 

"  The  first  appearance  of  Mr.  Choate  in  any  professional 
capacity  in  Salem  that  I  can  now  recollect,  and  that  must 
have  been  within  a  few  months  after  his  admission  to  the 
bar,  was  in  the  defense  of  some  young  men  of  respectable 
families  in  his  own  town,  Danvers,  who  were  arraigned 

'  J  O 

before  the  late  Ezeldel  Savage,  Esq.,  the  principal  police 
magistrate  of  Salem  at  that  time,  on  the  charge  of  some 
riotous  proceedings  at  a  colored  dance-house,  in  a  small 
colony  of  blacks,  then  settled  and  for  years  before  and 
afterwards  at  the  head  of  the  Salem  and  Boston  turnpike. 
The  casfi  excited  much  interest,  from  the  character  and 
position  of  some  of  the  parties  implicated,  and  especially 
from  the  fame,  even  then,  the  expectations  and  hopes  of 
the  young  advocate.  All  had  heard  of  Mr.  Choate.  He 
had  before  that  time,  I  believe,  appeared  once  or  twice  be 
fore  some  of  the  magistrates  of  Danvers,  and  for  a  retainer 
of  three  or  five  dollars  poured  out,  in  the  fullest  measure, 
all  the  affluence  of  his  varied  knowledge,  all  his  high 
and  bold  logic,  his  words  of  fire — always  telling,  always 
pointed,  and  always  bearing  in  some  way  on  his  case,  and 
literally  astonished  the  natives  and  all  other  men  who 
heard  him.  His  fame  at  once  spread  abroad.  There  is 
and  was  a  close  intercourse,  business  and  otherwise,  be 
tween  Salem  and  South  Danvers,  where  Mr.  Choate  first 
commenced  his  practice,  and  then  resided.  They,  the  men 
of  Danvers,  had  never  heard  Rich  eloquence  before  ;  it 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  S  .        37 

came  upon  them  with  all  the  force  of  a  new  revelation.  It 
was  wholly  a  new  sort  of  thunder  and  lightning,  and  they 
were  literally  filled  with  amazement  !  Under  these  cir 
cumstances,  it  is  not  strange  that  when  the  i  Mumford 
case/  as  it  was  called,  came  up  in  Salem — a  somewhat 
larger  and  broader  theater — a  more  diversified  audience — 
ship  masters,  old  salts,  supercargoes,  clerks,  merchants,  and 
the  various  men  of  the  various  callings  of  the  chief  town 
of  the  county — an  interest  and  a  feeling  altogether  un 
usual  should  have  been  excited  on  the  occasion.  It  was 
so.  The  place  where  Justice  Savage  held  his  court  was  a 
large  room  on  the  second  floor  of  a  substantial  building,  on 
one  of  our  principal  streets,  and  it  was  immediately  densely 
packed  with  all  the  varieties  of  our  population  to  some  ex 
tent,  but  the  audience  at  first  was  mostly  composed  of  those 
persons  who  usually  congregate  in  such  places.  The  trial 
commenced  and  proceeded ;  witness  after  witness  was  called, 
and  all  subjected  to  the  severest  and  most  rigid  cross-exam 
ination  by  the  young  counsel.  Now  and  then  a  passage  at 
arms  with  the  counsel  for  the  government  (a  gentleman  of 
very  considerable  experience  in  criminal  courts,  and  of  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  years'  standing  at  the  bar),  would  come 
up,  to  give  variety  to  the  scene ;  and  now  and  then  a  gen 
tle,  most  gracious  and  reverential  renconter  with  the  hon 
orable  court  would  intervene  (Mr.  Choate  was  always  most 
respectful  and  deferential  to  the  courts),  and  again  a  hard 
contest  with  some  perverse  and  obstinate  witness  would  re 
lieve  the  tedium  of  the  protracted  examination.  Some  of 
the  immediate  auditors  would  get  over-heated,  and  then 
work  themselves  out  into  the  fresh  air,  and  report  the  pro 
ceeding,  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the  young  lawyer — what 
he  said  to  his  antagonist,  Esquire  T.,  or  to  the  honorable 
court,  or  this  or  that  fugitive  comment  on  the  witness,  or 


38         REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  0  A  T  E  . 

case — as  the  trial  proceeded  (an  inveterate  habit  of  Mr. 
Choate,  in  all  his  early  practice,  and  no  court  or  counsel 
were  or  could  be  quick  enough  to  prevent  it — it, would 
breathe  out,  this  or  that  comment,  or  word,  or  sugges 
tion). 

"  In  this  way,  and  by  such  means,  the  fame  of  this  case 
extended,  while  the  trial  was  in  progress,  some  two  or  three 
days,  as  I  now  recollect,  in  the  office  of  a  police  justice ! 
Men  of  the  various  classes  would  assemble  around  the 
court  room,  in  the  entry,  on  the  stairs,  outside,  to  hear 
the  fresh  reports ;  and  so  things  continued  till  the  argu 
ment  came,  and  then  there  was  a  rush  for  every  available 
point  and  spot,  within  or  without  the  compass  of  the 
speaker's  voice,  and  the  people  literally  hung  with  de 
lighted  and  absorbed  attention  on  his  lips.  It  was  a  new 
revelation  again  to  this  audience.  They  had  heard  able 
and  eloquent  men  before  in  courts  of  justice  and  elsewhere. 
Essex  had  had,  for  years  and  generations,  an  able,  learned 
and  eloquent  bar — there  had  been  many  giants  abroad  in 
the  midst  of  us — some  of  national  fame  and  standing,  but 
no  such  giant  as  this  had  appeared  before — such  words,  such 
epithets,  such  involutions,  such  close  and  powerful  logic  all 
the  while,  such  grace  and  dignity,  such  profusion  and  waste 
even  of  every  thing  beautiful  and  lovely  !  No,  not  waste, 
he  never  wasted  a  word.  How  he  dignified  that  court,  how 
he  elevated  its  high  functions,  with  what  deference  did  he 
presume  to  say  a  word,  under  the  protection,  and,  as  he 
hoped,  with  the  approving  sanction  of  that  high  tribunal 
of  justice,  in  behalf  of  his  unfortunate  (infelicitous,  from 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed)  clients,  etc., 
etc.  I  could  give  no  word  or  sentence  of  this  speech.  I 
did  not  even  hear  it,  but  I  heard  much  of  it,  and  all  ac 
counts  agreed  in  representing  it  as  an  extraordinary  and 


REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE.    39 

wholly  matchless  performance.  They  had  never  heard  the 
like  before,  or  any 'thing  even  approaching  it,  for  manner, 
matter  and  substance.  It  was  a  new  school  of  rhetoric, 
oratory  and  logic,  and  of  all  manner  of  diverse  forces, 
working  however  steadily  and  irresistibly  in  one  direction 
to  accomplish  the  speaker's  purpose  or  object. 

"The  feeling  excited  by  this  first  speech  of  Mr.  Choate 
in  Salem  was  one  of  great  admiration  and  delight.  All  felt 
lifted  up  by  his  themes,  and  there  is  one  thing  remarkable 
about  Mr.  Choate  always.  He  elevates  his  hearer  to  his 
subject.  His  subject  is  always  above  or  higher  than  his 
audience.  Now  of  this  particular  case.  It  was  a  common 
row  of  some  common  and  some  rather  uncommon  rowdies 
at  a  negro  dance-house.  That  was  the  subject  of  a  three 
hours'  speech,  to  which  a  common  man,  as  well  as  a  man 
of  the  highest  culture,  would  have  listened,  not  only  with 
out  weariness,  but  with  delight.  A  great  audience,  of  all 
classes  and  conditions,  did  listen  to  it  with  delight  and  ad 
miration,  and  all  agreed  with  one  voice  that  they  never  had 
heard  the  like  before.  This  single  effort  established  Mr. 
Choate's  reputation  in  Salem  from  that  day  to  this.  And 
all  were  prepared  to  welcome  him,  when,  a  few  years  after 
wards,  he  took  up  his  abode  here,  after  the  elevation  of  his 
old  friend  and  teacher,  Judge  Cummins,  to  the  bench  of 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas. 

"  Mr.  Choate  at  once  went  into  a  full  practice.  I  should 
think  within  two  years  from  the  date  of  his  admission  to 
the  bar,  he  was  retained  in  more  causes  in  the  Common 
Pleas  than  any  other  attorney  of  that  court.  He  had  all 
the  criminal  defenses,  and  if  he  did  not  clear  all  the  rogues, 
none  were  convicted,  under  his  surgery.  While  he  re 
mained  in  the  county,  no  jury  ever  brought  in  a  verdict  of 
guilty  against  any  client  defended  by  him  !  And  I  remem- 


40  REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFU3     C  HO  ATE. 

her  hearing  Mr.  Clioate  say,  not  long  before  he  left  our 
bar,  that  no  person  defended  by  him  here  had  then  been 
convicted.     In  the  case  particularly  referred  to,  some  of  the 
parties  were  held  for  trial  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas, 
where  he  again  defended  them,  and  they  were  acquitted. 
There  was  one  famous  case  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas, 
of  an  indictment  of  one  of  his  then  townsmen  for  stealing 
a  flock  of  turkeys  !     We  had  this  case,  at  every  term  of 
the  court,  for  a  year  or  more,  and  the  inquiry  used  to  be, 
( When  are   the  turkeys   coming  on  ?'     The  proofs  ac 
cumulated  on  the  part  of  the  government  at  each  succes 
sive  trial.     The  county  attorney,  a  man  of  experience  and 
ability,  fortified  himself  on  every  point,  and  piled  proof 
upon  proof  at  each  successive  trial,  but  all  without  success. 
The  voice  of  the  charmer  was  too  powerful  for  his  proofs, 
and  at  each  trial — three  or  four  in  all,  I  forget  which — 
there  was  one  dissenting  juror  !     The  case  at  last  became 
famous  in  the  county,  and  in  the  vacations  of  the  court  the 
inquiry  was  often  heard,  '  When  is  the  turkey-case  coming 
on  again  ?'  and  people  would  come  from  different  parts  of 
the  county  on  purpose  to  hear  that  trial.    Here  the  theater 
was  still  larger.     It  was  the  county,  the  native  county,  of 
the  already  distinguished  advocate.     I  heard  those  trials. 
One  was  in  old  Ipswich — in  December,  I  think — a  leisure 
season — within  four  miles  of  the  spot  where  the  orator  was 
born.     They  came  up  from  Essex — old  Chebacco — the  old 
and  the  young  men  of  the  town.    Eepresentatives,  more  or 
less,  from  the  whole  body  of  the  county  were  present,  and 
the  court  house  was  crowded  with  delighted  and  aston 
ished  listeners.     I  remember  how  they  all  hung  upon  him, 
spell-bound  by  his  eloquence  ;  and  I  verily  believe  these 
by-standers  would  have  acquitted  by  a  majority  vote  ;  but 
the  jury,  bound  by  their  oaths  to  return  a  true  verdict  ac- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  41 

cording  to  the  evidence,  would  not  do  so,  but  still  there 
was  one  dissenting  juror  ;  and  finally  the  prosecuting  offi 
cer,  in  utter  despair,  after  the  third  or  fourth  trial,  entered 
a  nolle  prosequi,  and  thus  the  turkeys  were  turned  or 
driven  out  of  court. 

"I  have  heard  that  this  alleged  turkey- thief,  years  after 
wards,  called  on  Mr.  Choate  at  his  office  in  Boston.  Mr. 
Choate  did  not  recollect  him,  which  greatly  surprised  the 
old  client,  and  he  said,  '  Why,  Mr.  Choate,  I  am  the  man 
you  plead  so  for  in  the  turkey-case,  when  they  couldn't  find 
any  thing  agin  me/  There  had  been  only  forty-four  good 
and  true  men  against  him,  if  there  were  four  trials,  and  I 
believe  there  were,  without  including  twenty-three  more  of 
the  grand  jury  ! 

"  After  Mr.  Choate's  admission  to  full  practice  in  the 
Supreme  Judicial  Court,  I  recollect  one  term  of  the  court 
he  procured  the  actual  acquittal  of  nearly  the  whole  dock — 
of  all,  certainly,  whom  he  defended.  That  was  the  week 
before  Thanksgiving,  and,  it  was  said,  they  were  all  going 
home  to  spend  Thanksgiving,  instead  of  to  the  jails  and  pen 
itentiaries.  The  old  and  venerable  Attorney  General  said, 
pleasantly,  at  one  of  these  trials,  (it  was  in  the  old  Salem 
court  house,)  he  believed  the  days  of  e  the  Salem  witch 
craft  had  returned  again/  He  called  him  (  the  conjuror/ 
I  repeat  what  I  believe  to  be  the  literal  fact,  that  no  man 
defended  by  Mr.  Choate  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  or 
in  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  while  he  practiced  in  this 
county,  was  ever  convicted  by  a  verdict  of  the  jury  !  And 
he  was  the  criminal  Attorney  General  from  the  first  to  the 
last  of  his  being  here. 

"  Mr.  Choate,  while  practicing  the  law  in  his  native 
county,  had  a  truly  noble  name  and  fame,  and  it  was  all 
justly  deserved.  No  man  was  ever  truer  to  his  clients 


42  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

than  he  was.  He  always  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  in 
every  case,  and  that  has  been  one  secret  of  his  great  suc 
cess.  It  made  no  difference  with  him  what  was  the  cause 
— what  the  tribunal,  the  party,  or  the  fee,  he  went  into  it 
with  his  whole  strength,  and  summoned  to  his  aid  all  his 
vast  resources  of  logic,  wit,  utterance,  learning,  and  knowl 
edge  of  men,  (in  which  no  man  excels  him,)  and  contended 
for  his  very  life  for  mastery  and  success. 

"  I  have  heard  him  in  the  State  courts,  in  the  United 
States  Supreme  Court,  arguing  a  question  of  boundary 
between  States,  or  discussing  the  constitutionality  of  a  law 
of  Massachusetts ;  I  have  heard  him,  also,  in  the  Legisla 
ture  of  Massachusetts,  in  the  convention  of  the  State,  in 
the  Lyceum,  on  the  stump,  and  in  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States,  and  must  say  that  I  heard  him  sometimes,  while  he 
was  practicing  law  in  Danvers,  in  the  early  years  of  his 
professional  life,  in  an  argument  before  a  country  justice  of 
the  peace  for  his  tribunal,  and  a  small  neighborhood  of 
farmers  and  mechanics  for  his  audience,  with  a  poor  man 
for  his  client,  wholly  unable  to  pay  a  fee,  in  presenti  or 
in  futuro,  when,  to  my  mind  and  recollection,  he  fully 
equaled  any  of  his  later  efforts  on  larger  topics  or  of  wider 
fame.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Choate  was  a  full-grown  lawyer, 
jurist,  advocate,  and,  more  than  all,  MAN  at  the  start.  He 
had  sounded  the  very  depths  of  the  law  in  his  early  studies  ; 
he  always  read  with  pen  in  hand,  and  noted  and  inwardly 
digested  every  thing.  He  read  every  thing,  understood 
every  thing,  and  remembered  every  thing.  His  mind  was 
filled  with  all  knowledge.  His  aims  and  ambition  were 
wholly  professional,  and  with  such  a  training,  such  capaci 
ties,  and  such  knowledge  of  the  law  and  of  all  other  sub- 
iocts,  his  advent  to  the  bar  was,  indeed,  the  inauguration 
of  a  new  school ;  but  it  is  a  school  that  will  die  with  him  ! 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.        43 

He  may  have  imitators,  but  he  will  never  have  an  equal  or 
a  successor  in  his  sphere.  With  all  his  remarkable  exu 
berance  and  richness  of  diction,  he  never  uttered  a  word  to 
the  ear,  in  his  spoken  addresses,  which  had  not  a  meaning 
and  power  on  the  topic  in  hand.  He  makes  all  manner 
and  forms  of  speech  his  servitors  to  do  his  bidding,  and  to 
work  to  his  ends,  whatever  they  may  be. 

"  Mr.  Choate  was  always  a  great  favorite  with  the  mem 
bers  of  the  bar  here,  especially  the  younger  members.  He 
was  welcomed  with  a  manly  and  just  pride  by  his  seniors  and 
the  old  leaders  of  the  bar.  In  his  general  manner  and  bear 
ing,  he  was  always  respectful  and  deferential  to  his  seniors  in 
years,  and  especially  so  to  the  courts — to  all  courts — to  the 
layman  justice  of  the  peace  in  the  country,  as  well  as  to  the 
Supreme  Court  in  full  session.  I  need  not  say  that  he  was 
always  an  established  favorite  with  the  people  at  large, 
and  while  he  resided  among  us,  they  always  delighted  in 
showing  him  marks  of  their  confidence  and  regard.  He 
was  early  elected  to  the  Legislature  from  Danvers,  after 
wards  to  the  Senate  from  the  county,  and,  a  few  years 
later,  to  Congress  from  the  old  Essex  south  district. 

"  He  was  then  just  about  thirty  years  old.  We  all  re 
joiced  in  his  honors,  he  bore  them  so  meekly  and  unobtru 
sively.  He  never  sought  office  ;  office  always  sought  him. 
When  nominated  for  Congress,  it  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  he  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  accept  the 
nomination.  He  had  no  taste  for  public  and  political  life. 
All  his  heart,  all  his  aims  in  life  were  in  his  profession  ; 
and  he  yielded  to  what  seemed  to  be,  at  the  particular 
juncture,  a  necessity.  I  need  not  say  that  when  we  finally 
parted  with  him,  to  enter  upon  the  broader  and  larger  field 
of  the  metropolis,  and  to  earn  for  himself,  in  various  pub 
lic  stations  and  employments  since,  a  national  reputation 


44        REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  GATE. 

and  fame,  as  the  unequaled  orator  and  advocate  of  the 
Massachusetts  bar,  we,  the  bar  and  the  people  of  Essex, 
did  it  with  extreme  regret.  Very  pleasant  was  he  to  all 
while  amongst  us,  and  we  all  rejoice  in  his  successes  and 
honors,  and  will  pardon  much  to  a  high  sentiment  of  c  na 
tionality/  He  argued  questions  of  law  in  the  Supreme 
Judicial  Court,  as  soon  as  he  was  permitted  to  do  so  by 
the  then  rules  and  practice  in  that  court,  and  that  was  at 
the  November  term,  1827.  I  think  one  of  his  first  cases 
was  Jones  vs.  Andover,  reported  in  the  sixth  Pickering, 
which  raised  a  question  of  construction  as  to  the  meaning 
and  import  of  the  term  '  highway/  as  used  in  the  statute, 
giving  individuals,  injured  by  any  defects  therein,  a  remedy 
against  the  town  bound  to  maintain  such  highway.  •  In 
this  particular  case,  Mr.  Choate  appeared  for  the  defend 
ant  town,  and  at  the  trial  a  non-suit,  by  consent,  was  en 
tered,  on  the  ground  that  the  way  in  question  was  a  town 
way.  And  that  was  the  question  for  the  whole  court, 
whether  the  word  '  highways/  as  used  in  the  statute,  in 
cluded  (  town'  ways  ;  if  not,  the  plaintiff  in  the  suit  had 
no  remedy.  The  court  decided  that  it  did,  against  Mr. 
Choate  ;  and  I  rather  think  he  will  tell  you,  this  day,  that 
that  decision  was  another  form  of  legislation.  From  the 
manner  in  which  he  argued  the  question,  I  have  no  doubt 
he  believes  he  was  right  to  this  day,  and  perhaps  many  of 
the  profession  would  agree  with  him.  The  enlarged  con 
struction  would  make  a  better  and  more  reasonable  law, 
undoubtedly  ;  but  I  have  heard  other  gentlemen  beside  Mr. 
Choate  pronounce  that  decision  mere  legislation.  Another 
case,  argued  by  him  at  the  same  or  a  subsequent  term, 
relative  to  a  reservation  in  a  deed  and  a  right  of  way, 
(Choate  vs.  Burnham,)  opened  wider  topics  and  larger 
scope  ;  and  I  well  recollect  with  what  marked  attention  he 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    45 

was  listened  to  by  the  court  and  bar.  The  court  then  con 
sisted  of  Parser,  C.  J.,  and  Justices  Putnam,  Wilde  and 
Morton.  They  evidently  looked  upon  him  as  a  sort  of  new 
creation!' 

Another  Salem  friend  says :  "  From  the  first  Mr. 
Choate  was  industrious  and  studious,  rising  early  in  the 
morning,  and  busied  with  his  books  at  his  office  long  before 
the  day  laborers  went  to  their  work.  He  was  accustomed  to 
take  long  walks,  frequently  in  the  pastures,  and  without 
a  companion.  In  these  lonely  rambles  his  full  and  melo 
dious  voice  was  sometimes  heard  by  other  strollers  in  those 
solitudes,  themselves  unseen,  who  were  thus  unexpectedly 
made  auditors  of  the  young  forensic  speaker.  Doubtless, 
the  partridges  and  squirrels  of  this  lonely  region  (the  sheep 
pasture  rocks)  have  often  been  startled  by  the  tones  of  that 
voice  which  was  wasting  '  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air/ 
and  which  was  thus  preparing  to  sway  listening  senates, 
and  charm  the  ears  of  his  countrymen. 

"  Mr.  Choate  was  a  regular,  though  not  a  constant,  at 
tendant  at  church.  At  first,  and  until  about  the  time  of 
his  marriage,  he  attended  at  the  Unitarian  church,  then 
under  the  pastoral  care  of  Eev.  Mr.  Sewall.  He  afterward 
went  to  the  Congregational  church  under  the  pastorate 
of  Eev.  Mr.  Walker,  and  subsequently  Kev.  Mr.  Cowles. 
The  same  restlessness  of  manner,  or  nervousness,  which  was 
so  marked  in  Mr.  Choate,  was  even  greater  in  his  youth 
than  in  his  later  years.  Everywhere,  at  home,  abroad  in 
the  court  room,  or  at  the  church,  but  mostly  when  in  deep 
thought,  he  was  accustomed  to  run  his  slender  white  fin 
gers  through  his  long  jetty  hair,  and  toss  about  in  wild 
confusion  his  curly  locks,  which,  however,  always  fell  into 
comely  order  when  his  hand  was  withdrawn. 

"  His  love  of  books  is  well  known,  and  was  as  strong  in 


46  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

his  younger  days  as  at.  a  later  period,  although  his  collec 
tion  was  not  then  large.  Like  many  other  young  profes 
sional  men,  his  means  did  not  allow  him  to  purchase 
largely,  as  he  was  already  in  debt  for  his  education  and  his 
small  but  well-selected  law  library.  More  recently  he  has 
been  a  large  purchaser  of  choice  authors  ;  and  at  auction 
sales  of  foreign  books  he  has  been  accustomed  to  give  orders 
for  the  purchase  of  such  as  he  found  on  the  catalogues.  On 
an  occasion  he  gave  particular  orders  to  his  bookseller  to 
buy  certain  books  which  he  had  marked  on  the  catalogue 
of  foreign  books.  Some  were  limited  to  five,  ten,  fifteen,  or 
twenty  dollars,  as  the  case  might  be  ;  but  there  was  one 
book  that  he  must  have.  i  Buy  that  book  at  any  price/ 
said  he  with  emphasis.  The  result  was  that  he  obtained 
the  coveted  volume  for  the  magnificent  sum  of  twelve 
cents  ! 

"  We  might  have  spoken  of  many  traits  of  his  character 
as  yet  untouched.  Of  his  early  friendship,  his  fascinating 
converse,  his  quaint  remarks,  his  gift  at  repartee,  his  keen 
sense  of  the  ludicrous,  his  polished  irony,  his  geniality  and 
imperturbable  good  humor,  and  his  kindness  of  heart.  All 
these,  and  many  others,  are  remembered  and  cherished,  and 
their  fragrance  remains  although  he  has  departed." 

The  statement  that  he  ever  attended  the  Unitarian 
church  has  been  contradicted,  and  I  do  not  think  it  can 
be  true. 

A  Boston  writer  adds  a  few  more  particulars  and  names 
worthy  of  remembrance  in  this  connection.  He  says  :  "It- 
is  well  known  that  though  in  popular  estimation  the  name 
of  Mr.  Choate  is  coupled  with  the  annals  of  the  bar  of  Suf 
folk,  he  was  an  exotic  here.  It  is  not,  however,  so  well 
known  that  though  he  came  to  this  bar  at  a  comparatively 
early  age,  he  left  behind  him,  in  his  Essex  record,  a  career 


REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS    CHOATE.  47 

not  surpassed  by  any  thing  which  he  achieved  in  after 
years  in  a  more  conspicuous  forum.  We  have  heard  it 
remarked  by  one  of  his  contemporaries  there  that  by  far  the 
most  brilliant  portion  of  Mr.  Choate's  forensic  life  was  be 
fore  he  came  to  Boston,  and  that  his  magnificent  perform 
ances  here  were  in  a  measure  the  dregs  of  his  vast  energies. 
This  may  have  been  exaggeration  as  expressed,  but  it  is 
quite  likely  to  be  true  in  the  main.  Mr.  Choate  began 
practice  in  the  town  of  Danvers  in  about  the  year  1825, 
and  shortly  after  removed  to  Salem,  and  continued  there 
till  he  came  to  Boston  in  1834.  His  practice  was  confined 
to  no  part  of  the  county  ;  he  attended  the  courts  in  the 
three  court  towns,  and  was  unquestionably  the  leading 
court  lawyer  in  general  miscellaneous  trials.  Here  was 
nine  years  of  constant  court  practice.  The  reports  of  the 
Supreme  Court  show  him  to  have  been  in  by  far  the  great 
est  part  of  all  the  best  litigations  in  the  county,  from  the 
first  cause  in  which  his  name  appears  in  that  court  (Keu- 
ben  Jones  vs.  the  Inhabitants  of  Andover,  6  Pick.  59)  to 
the  time  he  left  the  county.  We  have  been  told  he  took 
all  kinds  of  business,  and  was  especially  in  repute  as  a 
criminal  lawyer,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  try  even  liquor 
cases,  and  causes  before  justices  of  the  peace.  We  have 
seen  a  gentleman  who  witnessed  the  first  cause  he  ever 
tried,  a  defense,  we  think,  before  a  justice  of  the  peace 
in  Danvers,  and  he  represented  his  eifort  as  full  of  the 
same  fiery  eloquence  which  marked  his  maturer  efforts. 
He  was  probably  compelled  from  necessity  to  take  all  gen 
eral  business  which  came  to  him ;  for  he  was  without  prop 
erty,  and  it  is  said  when  he  left  Salem  he  was  probably 
worse  than  nothing  in  a  money  point  of  view.  His  clients, 
too,  were  of  a  hard-fisted  kind,  who  expected  and  de 
manded  a  brave  fight  on  ever  so  small  an  occasion,  and  ever 


48  REMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS    OHO  ATE. 

so  desperate  a  cause.  It  was  from  this  circumstance  he 
must  have  acquired  that  discipline  in  the  hard  school  of 
business  which  fixed  for  life  his  brilliancy  in  a  setting  of 
plain  matter-of-fact  industry.  He  must  also  have  had 
competitors  well  fitted  to  inspire  ambition  and  nerve  him 
to  his  best  exertion.  There  must  have  been  Saltonstall, 
Gushing,  Lunt,  Pickering,  Cummins,  Shillaber,  Ward, 
and  Lord  ;  all  men  in  whom  he  must  have  found  foemen 
worthy  of  his  steel,  not  to  mention  the  occasional  compe 
tition  with  great  leaders  from  other  portions  of  the  State. 
We  are  told  that  he  was  quite  as  minute  and  elaborate  in 
his  preparation  of  arguments  then  as  afterwards,  and  his 
efforts  invariably  attracted  a  crowded  court  house.  One 
of  the  present  justices  of  the  Supreme  Court  was  ap 
pointed,  in  company  with  two  others,  referees  in  a  cause 
to  be  heard  at  Danvers,  in  about  the  year  1826.  He  pro 
ceeded  the  day  before  the  time  appointed  to  that  town, 
and  on  alighting  at  the  inn  was  met  at  the  door  by  one  he 
took  for  the  innkeeper,  by  whom  he  was  shown  into  the 
parlor.  This  man  was  dressed  in  very  democratic  attire, 
with  cheap  pantaloons,  a  long  slouchy  vest,  a  blue  coat 
with  metallic  buttons  (and  quite  too  small  for  him),  and 
a  black  cravat,  much  resembling  a  string,  thrown  around 
rather  than  tied  on  his  neck.  The  next  morning  the 
referees  met  for  the  hearing,  and  the  same  young  man 
arose  and  opened  the  case.  The  judge  has  said,  that 
though  he  has  since  on  many  great  occasions  heard  Mr. 
Choate,  he  never  heard  him  surpass  that  opening.  This 
must  have  been  the  first  year  of  his  practice.  The  young 
advocate  afterwards  informed  the  judge  that  he  had  sat  up 
all  night  preparing  his  argument." 

Such  are  the  proud  voices  of  his  early  contemporaries. 
During  these  years,  therefore,  it  appears  he  was  estab- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS    C II  GATE.  49 

lishing  his  position  as  the  first  advocate  of  the  Essex  bar. 
In  the  year  1834  he  removed  to  Boston,  as  a  sphere  of  en 
deavor  and  aspiration  to  which  he  now  felt  fully  equal. 


HIS     BOSTON      CAREER. 

Here,  in  the  New  England  metropolis,  new  scenes  of 
professional  encounter,  new  antagonists,  and  in  some  de 
gree  new  law,  rose  before  him.  He  was  still  young,  but 
little  over  thirty.  Yet  he  entered  at  once  into  the  lists 
with  the  very  ablest  leaders"  of  the  Suffolk  bar,  and  ad 
vanced  for  seven  years  through  aNsteady  progress  of  suc 
cesses  and  of  fame.  At  first  this  strange-looking  and  sin 
gular-acting  youth  was  regarded  by  many  of  the  old  leaders 
who  had  long  been  masters  of  the  situation,  as  rather  odd 
than  powerful ;  and  I  have  been  told  it  was  the  fashion 
among  his  new  associates  at  the  bar  rather  to  sneer  at  his 
uncouth  gestures,  his  outbreaks  of  voice,  and  his  general 
originalities  of  proceeding  in  court, — especially  his  habit  of 
arguing  every  case  however  trivial,  with  all  his  might,  ex 
alting  the  most  insignificant  subject  of  suit  into  even  ma 
jestic  importance, — moved  their  mirth  and  disparagement. 
But  when  it  was  found  that  victory  waited  on  the  young 
champion,  that  verdicts  after  verdicts  were  won  by  him,  and 
that  his  points  of  law  were  again  and  again  sustained  by  the 
Supreme  Court  in  bane,  the  opinion  of  the  profession  grad 
ually  underwent  a  complete  change  ;  until  by  the  time  he 
was  chosen  by  the  Massachusetts  Legislature  to  the  United 
States  Senate  in  1841,  he  was  not  thought  by  his  profes 
sional  brethren  inferior  to  any  pleader  at  the  New  England 
bar;  while  by  the  general  public  he  had  for  some  time  been 
considered  superior  as  an  advocate  to  any  man  except  Dan- 

3 


50  REMINISCENCES     OF     E  U  F  U  S    C  HO  ATE. 

iel  Webster.  He  took  Mr.  Webster's  chair  in  the  Senate, 
when  that  gentleman  took  a  place  in  General  Harrison's 
cabinet. 

In  the  Senate  he  made  those  speeches  which  have  most 
drawn  upon  him  the  attention  of  the  nation.  Most  of  them 
were  carefully  revised  by  himself  and  officially  published. 
The  speech  on  the  Oregon  question  in  reply  to  Mr.  Buchanan, 
our  present  President;  those  on  the  Tariff ;  the  Annexation 
of  Texas  ;  To  provide  further  remedial  justice  in  the  Courts 
of  the  United  States,  were  printed  in  pamphlet  form  for 
popular  circulation.  They  were  carefully  prepared,  as  I  very 
well  know,  and  ought  to  be  read  by  every  one  who  would 
attempt  to  appreciate  the  mind  of  this  great  man.  They 
are  as  wise  in  thought  as  they  are  poetical  in  expression. 

In  1857,  under  Mr.  Choate's  immediate  direction,  the 
author  of  these  reminiscences  made  some  progress  in  pre 
paring  a  single  volume  of  his  selected  speeches,  and  I  re 
member  what  special  value  and  importance  he  seemed  to 
attach  to  his  speeches  on  the  Tariff  question,  and  Protection 
to  American  labor.  If  he  desired  any  to  be  preserved,  it  was 
those. 

In  the  Senate  he  was  regarded  as  the  especial  friend  and 
expounder  of  the  views  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Web 
ster.  This  led  to  an  unfortunate  encounter  between  him 
and  Mr/ Clay,  who  was  enraged  at  Mr.  Webster's  remain 
ing  in  office  under  President  Tyler.  It  was  not  at  all  sur 
prising  that  Mr.  Choate,  still  young,  with  comparatively  little 
experience  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  should  have  been  sur 
prised  into  silence  by  the  terrific  onset  of  Henry  Clay,  chief 
of  the  Senate  for  twenty  years.  But  what  was  indeed  sur 
prising  was,  the  kind  and  appreciative  manner  in  which  he 
always  spoke  of  Mr.  Clay,  as  well  afterwards  as  before  this 
renconter.  Again  and  &gain  I  have  heard  him  cordially 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.      51 

acknowledge  Clay's  prodigious  power  of  character  and  his 
magnificent  oratory.  He  said  the  ultimate  elements  of 
Clay's  greatness  were  wisdom  to  plan  and  genius  to  pacifi- 
cate.  In  1850,  when  Clay  retracted  his  Farewells  to  the 
Senate,  and  stood  once  more  in  the  Chamber,  he  remarked 
to  me,  that  he  rejoiced  that  Clay  was  there,  for  Clay  could 
bring  about  a  peaceful  compromise,  and  Webster,  he  feared, 
could  not.  And  in  allusion  to  Clay's  principles,  he  said, 
"  They  rise  like  the  peaks  of  a  mountain  range  from  the 
table  land  of  an  illustrious  life."  Subsequently,  in  a  let 
ter  from  England  to  me,  Mr.  Clioate  said,  "  They  have  no 
Henry  Clay  here  in  this  House  of  Commons."  There  were 
no  bitter  hatreds  choking  up  Choate's  great  heart.  He 
showed  that  his  silence  before  Clay  in  the  Senate  was  not 
due  to  want  of  invective  ability  to  answer  him,  by  his  very 
successful  passage  at  arms  with  Senator  McDuffie,  the  old 
antagonist  of  Randolph  of  Roanoke.  This  happened  after 
he  had  become  a  little  more  accustomed  to  his  senatorial 
Chair,  and  the  appalling  strangeness  of  the  elevated  scene 
had  somewhat  passed  away.  Choate  hated  no  man.  He 
either  loved,  admired,  or  was  indifferent  to  men. 

His  style  of  Senatorial  address  was  the  same  passionate 
and  pictorial  stream  of  speech  as  his  jury  appeals.  He 
enchained  the  ear,  he  reasoned  cogently,  he  fascinated  the 
intellect.  I  have  heard  the  southern  and  western  men 
especially,  speak  with  a  poetic  enthusiasm  of  that  dark- 
faced  Senator  from  Massachusetts  with  curling  locks  and 
such  a  delightful  flow  of  words.  "  He  took  us,"  they  would 
say,  "  and  carried  us  right  along  with  him,  as  if  we  were 
on  a  beautiful  stream,  with  flowers  and  songs." 

In  1845,  he  returned  to  the  practice  of  the  profession 
of  which  he  was  so  fond,  and  in  which  he  was  working 
when  death  found  him  still  busy. 


52     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  formed  that  personal  ac 
quaintance  with  him  which  continued  uninterrupted  for 
fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  and  which 
was  as  intimate  a  relation  of  friendship  as  could  naturally 
exist  between  youth  and  one  so  great,  and  so  much  older. 

From  the  time  of  his  return  from  the  Senate  to  the 
Bar  I  do  not  think  anybody  questioned  his  empire  over  the 
jury,  and  few  who  were  intelligently  informed  doubted  his 
commanding  influence  with  the  judges.  The  events  of  his 
life,  from  this  date,  are  chiefly  chronicled  in  the  names  of 
the  great  cases  which  he  argued — cases  where  life,  or  honor, 
or  vast  sums  of  property,  or  all  combined,  were  staked 
upon  the  issue. 

r*  Among  all  these,  the  Albert  J.  Tirrell  case  was  the 
most  famous  criminal  defense  he  ever  managed.  The  de 
fendant  was  charged  with  the  murder  of  the  woman  who 
was  alleged  to  be  his  mistress.  The  proof,  to  the  unpro 
fessional  mind,  was  clear  and  damning,  but  it  did  not  quite 
come  up  to  the  certainty  which  the  law  demands.  The 
marvel,  however,  was  to  make  the  jury  see  it  in  that  light 
• — to  make  them  take  the  professional  view,  and  not  the 
popular  view.  Among  other  lines  of  defense  upon  which 
the  advocate  rested  was  the  singular  one  of  "  somnambul 
ism."  It  will  be  shown  in  these  Keminiscences  hereafter 
that  this  much  satirized  plea  was  not  conceived  by  Mr. 
Choate  himself,  but  was  put  into  his  mouth  ;  and  that 
the  poetical  and  effective  presentation  of  it  alone  was  the 
role  which  his  genius  played.  The  defendant  was  ac 
quitted. 

Mr.  Choate  thought  that  the  ample  brief  of  his  argu 
ment  in  this  case  could  be  found  among  his  papers,  and 
that  it  ought  to  form  a  part  of  any  collection  of  his 
Speeches.  He  said  to  me  in  1857  :  "  If  I  can  get  hold  of 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.      53 

it  we  will  puzzle  it  out  together.  I  can  dig  it  up,  I  know/' 
He  did  not  live  to  do  this.  Some  one,  it  is  said,  once  told 
Tirrell,  after  his  acquittal,  that  he  existed  only  by  the  suf 
ferance  of  Choate. 

Mr.  Choate's  talents  proved  much  better  when  for  the 
defense  on  the  criminal  side  of  the  court  than  when  en 
listed  against  the  accused.  For  when,  in  1852,  he  was 
appointed  the  Attorney  General  of  the  State,  his  prosecu 
tions  were  not  generally  successful.  Juries  disagreed,  tri 
als  were  repeated,  defendants  were  acquitted  ;  presenting, 
in  this  regard,  a  marked  contrast  to  the  administration  of 
that  office  by  Governor  Clifford,  his  successor. 

On  the  civil  side  of  the  court,  the  litigation  of  the 
most  important  rights  and  questions  of  property  which 
could  arise  in  a  city  so  commercial  and  wealthy  as  the 
metropolis  of  New  England  was  carried  on  by  him  in  one 
long,  steady,  and  extraordinary  current  of  success.  Not  a 
great  many  years  ago  a  leading  lawyer  at  the  Suffolk  bar 
retired  from  the  active  practice  of  the  court  room,  and 
among  other  reasons  for  that  retirement  he  gave  this  : 
"  What's  the  use  of  my  going  on  term  after  term  fight 
ing  cases  for  corporations,  with  Choate  to  close  on  me  for 
the  plaintiff.  If  I  have  fifty  cases,  I  sha'n't  gain  one  of 
them/' 

On  many  occasions  the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Judicial 
Court  have  expressed  their  appreciation  of  Mr.  Choate's 
profound  mastery  of  the  principles  of  common  law,  and 
his  exact  command  of  all  the  rulings  of  the  local  law.  In 
1850,  Professor  Greenleaf,  the  author  of  the  well-known 
work  on  "  Evidence,"  told  the  writer  that  in  a  civil  or  a 
criminal  case,  taking  law  and  fact  into  view  as  they  were 
to  be  presented  in  presence  of  a  jury,  he  considered  Choate, 
to  use  his  exact  words,  "  more  terrible  than  Webster/'  At 


54  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

the  bar  meeting,  when  he  died,  one  of  his  oldest  and 
toughest  antagonists,  whom  I  have  often  seen  pitted 
against  him,  declared  that  though  he  had  known  Jere 
miah  Mason,  Sam.  Dexter,  Daniel  Webster,  and  many 
other  warrior-lawyers,  yet  he  thought,  as  a  court  combat 
ant,  Mr.  Choate  was  more  formidable  than  any  man  he 
had  ever  known. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  estimates  set  upon  his  power 
in  the  law,  independent  of  his  advocacy,  it  is  well  known 
that  he  was  more  than  once  offered  a  judgeship  on  the 
bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts.  It  is  not 
so  well  known,  but  it  is  true,  that  he  was  once,  if  not 
twice,  made  aware  that  he  could  have  the  Attorney  Gener 
alship  of  the  United  States  if  lie  desired  it.  These  honors 
of  the  ermine  he  declined.  I  know  also  that  when  Judge 
Curtis  resigned  his  seat  on  the  bench  of  the  United  States 
Supreme  Court,  Mr.  Choate  himself  had  the  opinion  that 
he  might  receive  the  appointment  if  he  would  allow  some 
friends  who  desired  it  to  intimate  his  willingness  to  accept 
it.  I  urged  him  myself  to  allow  certain  representations  to 
be  made  for  him,  reminding  him  that  that  post  would  give 
him  a  change  of  toils,  and  some  respite  from  them.  But 
he  peremptorily  refused,  and  declared  that  nothing  would 
tempt  him  to  put  that  ermine  on.  Said  he,  "  Washington 
is  very  attractive  ;  but  not  Washington  shut  up  in  the 
lobby  and  on  the  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court/'  Unlike 
Curran,  who  retired  upon  the  judicial  bench  of  Master  of 
the  Kolls  ;  unlike  Erskine,  whose  career  of  twenty  years 
came  to  a  dead  stop  on  the  woolsack  of  the  Chancellor  of 
England,  Mr.  Choate  was  resolved  to  die  in  the  arena,  and 

O  ' 

with  the  professional  harness  on  his  back. 

Only  a  few  years  ago,  he  remarked  to  me,  "I  am  read- 
ins:  over  ajjain  Coke  upon  Littleton.     He  is  an  enthusiast 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.      55 

in  the  old  law,  and  I  want  him  to  inspire  my  enthusiasm ; 
for  it  would  be  dreadful,  you  know,  to  lose  one's  interest 
in  the  profession  to  which  a  man  is  going  to  devote  the 
last  ten  years  of  his  life."  The  last  ten  years  of  his  life  ! 
Prophetic  words.  He  seemed  to  feel  then  that  another 
decade  must  end  his  intellectual  struggle  ;  and  alas  !  within 
a  little  more  than  seven  years — three  years  short  of  the 
prophecy — those  lips  received  the  sacred  seal  of  death. 

During  those  last  years,  I  often  urged  him  to  take  a 
little  rest,  to  go  to  some  rural  spot,  to  recreate  his  jaded 
faculties  ;  but  the  advice  was  all  ineffectual.  He  could,  no 
more  rest  than  the  Wandering  Jew.  Summer  and  winter, 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  were  to  him  all  alike  times  for 
labors  to  be  done  and  new  glories  to  be  won.  One  torrid 
summer's  day,  I  suggested  to  him  to  run  down  to  the  soft 
Mediterranean  airs  of  Newport,  and  not  to  take  his  books, 
but  throw  himself  upon  the  social  tides  and  chances  of  the 
pleasure-seeking  place.  "  Why/'  said  he,  "  if  I  did,  I 
should  hang  myself  upon  the  first  tree  before  night." 

Pinkney,  he  would  often  remark,  had  great  seasons  of 
recreative  repose  and  entire  change  from  his  tremendous 
labors  at  the  bar.  He  went  as  negotiator  to  London  ;  he 
was  our  envoy  to  Italy,  and  an  ambassador  to  Russia. 
These  were  great  breathing  spaces  to  him,  and  thus  he  got 
re-made  every  now  and  then.  This  example,  however, 
never  seemed  to  impress  Mr.  Choate  himself  as  a  lesson  to 
him,  until  quite  recently,  when  he  one  day  observed  to 
me,  that  now  he  should  like  to  go  in  some  diplomatic 
capacity  to  a  continental  point  of  European  interest,  where 
he  might  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  some  of  the  great  libra 
ries  of  the  old  world,  and,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  have  a  regu 
lar  frolic."  And  he  thought  it  not  impossible  that  ulti 
mately  such  might  be  his  fortune.  I  think  if  at  the  open- 


56  REMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS    CHOATE. 

ing  of  the  present  national  administration,  of  which  he  was 
so  self-sacrificing  a  supporter.,  he  had  been  offered  a  diplo 
matic  post  abroad,  whether  lofty  or  low,  he  would  at  once 
have  accepted  it.  Then,  journeying  through  European 
scenery,  with  a  change  of  occupation — for  occupation  was 
indispensable  to  him — he  would  have  revived  and  renewed 
his  worn  energies,  ere  the  arrow  had  entered  his  soul  too 
deeply  for  all  the  medicines  of  earth.  That  recreative 
temptation  was  not  held  out  to  him,  and  he  went  to  his 
office  in  Court  street  daily,  till  a  very  short  time  before  he 
died. 

In  his  later  years  of  practice,  he  took  up  a  branch  of 
the  law  of  which  many  make  a  specialty,  and  adopted  it 
as  one  only  of  the  professional  provinces  through  which  he 
ranged  as  a  master.  That  was  the  Patent  law.  He  was 
very  fond  of  this  department  of  legal  science,  and  it  would 
have  been  happy  for  the  world  as  for  him,  if  he  had  de 
voted  himself  to  it  with  some  exclusiveness,  and  aban 
doned  minor  and  miscellaneous  cases.  Its  issues  involve 
so  much  money  that  it  would  have  fully  remunerated  him, 
and  a  few  great  patent  cases  a  year  would  have  demanded 
the  occasional  straining  of  his  powers  to  high  levels,  and  a 
constant  attention  sufficient  to  preserve  him  from  ennui 
and  brooding. 

In  1855,  he  received  an  injury  from  a  sprain  and  a  fall 
while  arguing  a  case  in  Dedham.  As  a  result  of  it,  one  of 
his  legs  became  inflamed,  an  abscess  formed,  and  after  a 
long  time  of  confinement  a  surgical  operation  was  per 
formed  upon  his  limb.  That  sickness,  I  think,  was  the 
first  deadly  blow  to  the  full  and  glorious  exertion  of  his 
powers.  He  told  me  that  when  he  took  the  ether  which 
was  given  him,  it  was  very  pleasant  till  the  moment  came 
of  utterly  surrendering  consciousness  ;  then  death  itself 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.  57 

could  not  have  been  more  awful  to  him,  and  he  struggled 
in  himself  as  for  life.  From  that  sickness  and  shock,  he 
came  out  again  to  his  round  of  daily  cares  ;  but  he  came 
out  haunted  and  overawed  by  the  shadow  of  his  past  deeds 
of  splendor,  and  with  little  more  to  hope  for  save  to  keep 
his  career  from  sinking  under  the  comparison. 

Some  time  before  this  event,  upon  the  great  stage  of 
Faneuil  Hall,  he  spoke,  on  one  occasion,  with  such  tremen 
dous  physical  movement  and  energy,  that  he  thought  he 
suffered  an  internal  injury,  and  ever  after  that  he  was 
quite  careful  to  regulate  his  more  frantic  gesticulations. 
But  it  was  from  the  time  of  this  Declham  sickness,  I  think, 
that  the  star  of  his  genius  slowly  waned.  He  did  not  lose 
so  much  in  pure  intellectual  power,  but  in  energy  and  mag 
netism.  The  alacrity,  too,  with  which  he  would  take  hold 
of  every  topic  suggested  to  him,  and  the  celerity  with  which 
his  mind  would  run  all  round  it,  and  away  from  it,  and 
come  back  to  it,  seemed  to  abate.  Before  that  sickness, 
he  was  the  most  remarkable  man  I  ever  knew,  for  being 
able  to  carry  on  any  number  of  lines  of  thinking  and  talk 
ing  at  the  same  time.  No  matter  how  far  you  branched 
off,  on  episodical  or  parenthetical  topics,  he  would  pursue 
the  diverging  track  to  the  close,  skip  back  from  it  to  the 
main  line  with  sure  precision,  and  return  upon  and  close 
that  chief  topic  with  certain  accuracy.  But  in  late  years  he 
would  say,  "  Let  us  finish  one  thing  at  a  time  ;  we  are  now 
upon  this  point.  When  we  finish  this,  we  will  go  to  that." 

His  oratory,  too,  underwent  a  marked  revolution.  He 
no  longer  tore  a  passion  to  tatters.  He  no  longer  seemed 
to  try  to  whirl  along  the  jury  or  the  audience  in  a 
maelstrom  of  passionate  feeling  ;  but  he  spoke  more 
calmly,  and  even  more  logically,  than  before.  In  his 
platform  speaking,  I  do  not  think  he  tried  after  this  to 

3* 


58  REMINISCENCES    OF    RCJFUS    CHOATE. 

produce  any  purely  oratorio  effect.  His  lectures  before  the 
Boston  Mercantile  Library,  and  other  bodies,  were  written 
to  refresh  his  mind  with  excursions  into  a  varied  literary 
domain;  for  he  said  to  me,  "In  their  preparation,  I  am 
led  all  about  my  library,  and  I  consult  and  renew  my  ac 
quaintance  with  hundreds  of  my  books/' 

His  recent  political  Speeches  were  written  rather  care 
fully,  and,  contrary  to  his  general  habit,  were  written  to 
be  read  rather  than  heard.  For,  both  them  and  his  later 
lectures,  he  delivered  in  a  comparatively  low  voice — the 
strange  music  of  tone,  as  of  a  chant,  which  all  who  heard 
him  must  remember  floating  through  their  cadences  ;  but 
many  parts  of  them  were  spoken  with  rather  the  tone  of 
poetic  soliloquy  than  of  direct  and  pointed  exhortation. 
Indeed,  often  he  became  quite  inaudible,  as  many  of  those 
who  hung  upon  his  accents  would  murmuringly  testify. 

In  his  last  tribute  to  Webster,  "the  guide,  philosopher 
and  friend/'  as  he  styled  him,  at  the  Celebration  supper  at 
the  Revere  House,  the  change  in  his  speaking  was  very 
manifest.  However,  on  that  occasion  he  produced  a  very 
marked  effect,  by  uttering  his  emphatic  sentences  slowly 
and  entirely  separated  from  each  other  by  a  pause.  "0  for 
one  more  peal  of  that  clarion  voice  !"  then  a  sublime  pause  ; 
"  one  more  throb  of  American  feeling  \"  and  so  on,  through 
the  entire  peroration  of  his  speech.  On  that  occasion  he 
was  for  the  last  time  on  earth  eloquent,  as  he  would  meas 
ure  eloquence.  Into  those  final  dropping  sentences,  he  dis 
tilled  the  very  essence  of  his  most  eloquent  feeling. 

When  Fisher  Ames  pronounced  the  eulogy  on  Alexan 
der  Hamilton  he  said,  "  These  tears  which  we  shed  will 
never  dry  up.  My  heart  grows  liquid  as  I  speak,  and  I 
could  pour  it  out  like  water."  Mr.  Choate  often  alluded 
to  the  mournful  beauty  of  these  words.  But  Fisher  Ames 


KEMINISCENCES    OF     11  U  F  U  S    C  HO  ATE.  59 

did  not  love  Alexander  Hamilton  any  more  than  Choate 
loved  Webster  ;  and  as  no\v  he  rose  up  like  Ames  to  speak 
over  the  grave  of  his  great  friend, — and  stood  there  gaunt, 
sunken,  suffering,  with  glittering  eyes, — and  ejaculated 
those  farewell  words  with  concentrated  energy,  as  if  the 
genius  of  his  life  had  all  rallied  upon  them, — the  solemn- 
toned  syllables  sounded  not  like  a  speech,  but  a  grand 
burial  anthem. 

When  he  left  the  Senate  of  the  Union,  in  1845,  his 
public  official  life  may  be  said  to  have  closed. 

Addresses  in  public  during  the  last  fifteen  years "oTTris" 
life  were  what  most  caught  the  popular  eye  and  ear,  yet, 
after  all,  during  the  whole  time,  with  very  rare  exceptions, 
his  heart  and  head  were  really  in  his  law.  He  never  thought 
much  or  talked  much  about  his  platform  efforts.  They  cost 
him  a  good  deal  of  labor,  but  so  far  as  regarded  their  suc 
cess  with  the  public  he  seemed  to  forget  them  as  soon  as 
they  were  uttered.  Nobody  had  any  encouragement  to  com 
pliment  him,  or  to  tell  him  what  people  said  about  any  of 
his  exhibitions.  He  had  absolutely  no  vanity.  He  spoke 
on  literary  themes  for  the  delight  of  the  thoughts,  and  the 
rapture  of  the  enthusiasm  which  their  utterance  evoked  in 
his  own  soul  and  mind.  Whether  the  audience  was  large  or 
small,  whether  they  liked  it  or  did  not  like  it,  whether  the 
stage  behind  him  was  covered  with  dignitaries  or  nobodies, 
seemed  quite  indifferent  to  him.  The  next  morning  after 
any  speech,  however  brilliant  or  exhausting,  you  would  al 
ways  find  him  in  his  office  early,  hard  at  work,  and  having 
taken  a  walk  and  a  snuff  of  literature,  too,  before  he  came 

down  there.    Such  was  the  case  during  the  last  fifteen  years 
^^^ 

of  his  career\\Whether  he  was  more  alive  to  the  public  in 
early  years  before  that  time,  I  do  not  knoW.  It  is  hardly 
to  be  presumed,  however,  that  he  was  ;  for  the  appetite  for 


60  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

admiration  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on,  not  lessensj  (Erskine 
and  Pinkney  both  grew  vainer  and  vainer,  till  they  died. 
But  there  was  no  other  man  in  the  world  who  thought  and 
felt  so  moderately  about  Eufus  Choate  as  Kufus  Choate 
himself.^ 

The  lecturing  system,  in  its  present  enormous  develop 
ment,  he  had  a  low  opinion  of.  An  occasional  Address  he 
thought  well  enough.  A  college  or  academic  Address  he 
thought  honorable  to  the  orator,  and  a  happy  thing  to  do. 
But  lecturing,  as  a  main  object  of  a  man's  mind  and  ener 
gies,  he  thought  very  meanly  of.  "  It  leads  to  nothing  and 
comes  to  nothing,"  he  would  say.  Casting  the  bread  of  ex 
hortation  upon  the  waters  in  the  hope  of  its  returning  after 
many  days  was  not  his  fashion  of  action.  He  wanted  some 
tangible  object  always  before  him  —  an  election  by  the  peo 
ple,  a  vote  by  a  representative  body,  a  verdict  from  the 


From  1845  the  strictly  professional  current  of  his  life 
was  only  varied  by  his  hurried  visit  to  Europe,  his  addresses 
and  his  services  in  the  Constitutional  Convention  of  Massa 
chusetts  in  1853.  That  flying  European  visit  was  in  1850, 
and  some  interesting  observations  of  his  upon  it,  will  be 
found  further  on  in  this  volume,  coupled  with  extracts  from 
letters  of  his  written  to  me  from  various  points  of  interest 
abroad  —  London,  Paris,  Switzerland  and  various  other 
places. 

His  course  in  the  Constitutional  Convention  was  mem 
orable.  He  was  in  a  hostile  body,  but  he  won  every  one's 
regard  ;  and  although  antagonistic  to  the  feelings  of  the 
majority,  his  oratory  swayed  with  all  its  legitimate  influ 
ence.  The  Convention  was  one  of  much  strength  of  intel 
lect  and  celebrity.  It  was  the  only  representative  body  in 
which  Charles  Sumner  and  he  ever  sat  together.  All  his 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.  .61 

speeches  here  were  carefully  considered.  But  his  great 
Speech  in  the  convention,  and  the  great  Speech  of  the  ses 
sion,  was  upon  the  integrity  of  the  Judiciary,  and  against 
elective  judges  in  the  commonwealth.  He  was  very  un 
well  at  the  time,  and  the  summer  day  was  of  most  oppres 
sive  temperature.  The  orator  looked  wretchedly,  but  he 
rose  in  his  bench  and  delivered  his  speech  to  the  delegates 
with  growing  power  and  steady  march  to  the  last  syllable. 
As  he  uttered  the  last  word,  he  sank  down,  pressed  his 
hand  to  his  head,  rose  again  and  staggered  up  toward  the 
door  on  the  outside  of  the  semicircle  of  seats.  His  strength 
and  life  were  so  utterly  exhausted  by  his  speech  that  he 
could  not  reach  it  unaided.  He  was  helped  out,  placed  in 
a  carriage  and  borne  home. 

It  is  recorded  that  Cicero  often  fainted  after  speaking  ; 

X  o    / 

and  great  actors  on  the  stage,  it  is  said,  have  frequently 
lain  upon  the  boards  unable  to  rise  when  the  curtain  had 
Mien  on  their  intense  tragic  impersonations  ;  but  I  never 
knew  any  other  orator  beside  Mr.  Choate  who  would  so 
utterly  exhaust  and  tear  himself  all  to  pieces  in  his  speak 
ing.  In  Washington,  an  eminent  lawyer  told  me  he  found 
him  once  in  bed  in  the  morning,  apparently  deadly  sick. 
An  hour  or  two  after  he  went  into  the  United  States  Su 
preme  Court, — and  there  was  Choate.  It  was  a  great  case, 
and  he  was  arguing  and  haranguing  the  gowned  Judges  with 
all  the  strength  of  his  lungs,  his  nerves  braced  to  spasmodic 
action,  and  his  eyes  blazing  as  with  supernatural  fires. 

In  this  speech  in  the  Constitutional  Convention  Choate 
was  successful ;  for  although  the  feeling  in  favor  of  en 
larging  the  jurisdiction  of  the  people  was  very  strong,  that 
barrier  of  independent  Courts  was  preserved  even  in  the 
constitution  framed  then  and  there.  During  all  the  ses 
sions  of  this  Convention,  however,  he  carried  on  more  or 


62.  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

less  law,  and  with  the  exception  of  this  convention  he 
could  not  be  said  to  have  turned  from  the  Law  at  all. 

In  recent  notices  of  his  death  the  remark  has  been 
made  that  he  sometimes  turned  aside  from  legal  labors  to 
prepare  academic  and  other  orations.  He  never  turned 
aside  in  the  least  to  prepare  them.  Not  a  single  case  at 
law  was  refused  or  slighted  for  them.  He  had  exactly  the 
same  court  programme  that  he  would  have  had  if  he  were 
not  preparing  them.  When  he  was  to  make  such  an  effort, 
he  put  off  preparation  till  the  last  minute,  and  then  worked 
very  early  in  the  morning,  and  during  little  lulls  in  the 
stormy  progress  of  his  cases,  to  complete  them.  These 
labors  were  superimposed  upon,  not  substituted  for  his 
professional  day's  work.  Occasionally  he  would  make  a 
slight  attempt  to  "  cut  out  of  a  case"  which  was  marked 
for  trial  on  the  day  before  he  was  to  deliver  some  address 
to  which  public  expectation  looked  with  interest.  But 
this  attempt  was  rarely  effectual  ;  for  the  Court  would 
never  grant  any  indulgence  for  such  a  cause,  law  having  a 
prevailing  jealousy  of  letters  ;  and  his  junior,  who  had 
retained  him  in  the  cause,  of  course  regarding  it  as  dis 
posing  of  the  case  by  suicide,  to  go  on  with  the  trial  with 
out  Choate. 

I  recollect  that  on  the  occasion  of  a  lecture,  not  very 
long  ago,  when  an  important  cause  in  which  he  was  re 
tained  was  reached  in  the  Supreme  Court  on  the  very  day 
before  the  evening  on  which  he  was  to  speak,  quite  a  num 
ber  of  Mr.  Choate' s  friends  at  the  bar  interested  themselves 
to  get  him  out  of  the  case,  and  give  him  at  Jeast  one  day 
and  a  night  to  complete  his  preparation  for  the  lecture,  and 
to  rest.  He  was  very  anxious  for  it  himself,  but  he  seemed 
wholly  powerless  to  promote  it.  He  never  could  bear  to 
disappoint  a  brother  lawyer,  nor  indeed  to  say  "no"  to 


REMINISCENCES  OF   RUFUS   CHOATE.   63 

anybody.  The  effort  for  his  brief  emancipation  failed  both 
with  the  Court  and  his  own  junior  ;  but  the  next  night, 
there  he  was  on  the  platform,  sick  with  sleeplessness  and 
care  ;  but  speaking  with  ardent  passion  to  an  immense 
audience,  among  whom  several  of  the  very  judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court  appeared  gratified  listeners.  In  the  course 
of  that  address,  he  told  me  afterwards,  he  felt  his  little 
strength  leaving  him,  and  the  hall  and  tiers  of  people 
growing  dim  ;  and  he  grew  so  faint  that  he  meditated 
turning  round  and  sitting  down.  "  But/'  said  he,  "I  con 
cluded  I  would  go  on  till  I  dropped  down."  His  excite 
ment  bore  him  up  and  carried  him  through. 

Probably  the  most  brilliant  lecture  he  ever  delivered  was 
one  very  early  in  his  career,  on  "  The  Sea."  He  himself 
always  regarded  that  lecture  with  enthusiasm.  He  told 
me  that  it  was  stolen  out  of  his  pocket  in  New  York,  but 
that  it  was  so  fixed  in  his  mind  that  he  could  have  recalled 
it  and  written  it  all  out  at  any  time  within  a  year  or  two 
after  its  loss.  The  sea  itself  always  had  to  him  a  mighty 
and  mysterious  impressiveness. 

Of  all  his  political  addresses,  the  ones  in  which  he 
seemed  to  throw  his  heart  most  warmly  and  his  imagina 
tion  most  brilliantly,  were  those  of  the  campaign  which 
closed  with  the  election  of  General  Taylor  to  the  presi 
dency  ;  and  those  of  the  campaign  of  the  compromises 
which  closed  with  the  defeat  of  Daniel  Webster  for  the 
nomination  to  .that  office.  These  were  in  1848,  and  in 
1850  to  1852.  Taylor  and  Webster  were  charmed  words 
to  him,  notwithstanding  the  latter  thought  the  nomination 
of  the  former  was  one  "  not  fit  to  be  made."  In  the  career 
of  the  frontier  captain,  Zachary  Taylor  ;  his  intrepid  march 
of  victory  from  Monterey  to  Buena  Yista  ;  his  answer  to 
Santa  Anna  when  summoned  to  surrender,  the  imagination 


64        REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  0  A  T  E  . 

of  Mr.  Choate  found  a  field  of  the  most  passionate  and  pic 
turesque  address. 

Who  that  heard  him  will  ever  forget  his  allusions  to 
Diogenes  with  his  lantern,  and  his  description  of  the  search 
of  the  Whigs  for  an  honest  man  ;  and  how  on  a  distant  bat 
tle  field,  in  a  stranger  land,  they  lifted  the  canvas  of  a  tat 
tered  tent,  through  whose  torn  peak  the  stars  were  glim 
mering,  and  there,  in  the  old  war-stained  hero  before  them, 
they  found  the  object  of  their  search  and  hopes  !  And 
how  the  old  cradle  of  Faneuil  Hall  rocked  and  rang  again 
and  again  as  he  described  the  modest  conqueror  of  Buena 
Vista  !  And  what  a  gleam  of  boyish  delight  rushed  over 
his  features  as,  remembering  he  was  speaking  in  Boston, 
which  calls  itself  "  Athens/'  he  shouted  out,  "Why,  he's 
got  a  library,  and  reads  it  like  Julius  Caesar  in  his  tent  ! 
and  he  writes  a  better  letter  to-day  than  Arthur  Duke  of 
Wellington." 

His  speeches  in  Faneuil  Hall  in  defense  of  Daniel  Web 
ster's  compromise  of  1850,  and  recommending  him  as  New 
England's  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  are  to  be  ranked 
among  the  very  warmest  and  best  of  his  political  essays. 
In  them  he  dealt  with  the  majestic  idea  of  American  na 
tionality,  its  original  compromises,  and  its  essential  fra 
gility  and  delicacy.  But  chiefly  his  tone  was  inspired  by 
Ithe  remembrance  that  he  was  speaking  for  the  god  of  his 
intellectual  idolatry. 

His  love  of  Webster  was  at  once  womanly  and  Homeric. 
It  was  as  if  Achilles  had  loved  Agamemnon.  It  was  as  Cur- 
ran  did  love  Grattan.  When  the  use  of  Faneuil  Hall  had 
been  refused  to  Webster  by  the  Boston  aldermen,  but  after 
wards  the  refusal  was  revoked,  he  broke  forth  in  exulting 
eloquence,  as,  standing  on  its  ample  stage,  he  described  its 
gates  as  open  now—"  Aye,  and  on  golden  hinges  turning." 


REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.        G5 

It  was  either  in  this  speech  or  the  one  of  the  next  March, 
1852,  that  he  closed  a  highly- wrought  peroration  by  a  sin 
gularly  homely  and  practical  illustration  which  exemplified 
the  startling  anti-climax  which  was  always  one  of  his  ora- 
toric  weapons.  When,  in  summing  up  the  thoughts  which 
for  an  hour  he  had  hurled  upon  the  crowded  audience 
surging  in  the  vast  hall  before  him,  he  reached  what  ap 
peared  to  be  the  acme  of  powerful  eulogium  upon  Web 
ster,  he  suddenly  stopped,  threw  himself  forward  in  the 
attitude  in  which  a  sailor  would  heave  on  rope  on  the 
ship's  deck.  "  Now,  boys  !"  he  exclaimed,  "don't  you  think 
he'd  be  a  good  pilot  ?"  There  was  a  loud  response  from 
the  crowd.  "  Then  all  together  now,  and  heave  him  on 
to  the  quarter  deck ;"  and  amid  tumultuous  cheering  the 
orator  sat  down.  This  little  finale  was  apparently  not 
premeditated,  as  the  speech  was  ;  for  next  day  it  was  not 
in  all,  if  it  was  in  any,  of  the  reports  of  the  meeting. 

At  the  famous  Baltimore  Convention  of  1852,  which 
nominated  General  Scott — the  conqueror  of  the  halls  of  the 
Montezumas- — as  President  of  the  American  States,  passing 
over  the  great  civilian  Webster,  Choate  made  one  of  the 
most  fervid  and  striking  speeches  of  his  life.  The  Conven 
tion  was  composed  of  delegates  from  all  the  States  ;  men 
elected,  in  great  measure,  for  power  and  political  position  ; 
— ex-governors,  counselors,  leaders  of  the  people,  chiefs  of 
parties  were  all  there ;  and  it  was,  in  point  of  intellect,  a 
very  superior  body  to  the  national  House  of  Representa 
tives.  They,  therefore,  could  appreciate  Choate's  intellec 
tual  splendors  fully.  And  the  southern  branch  of  the 
Convention,  especially,  were  completely  carried  away  by 
this  new  and  strange  eloquence. 

I  have  heard,  and  it  was  currently  said  at  the  time,  that 
in  the  tedious  struggle  for  a  nominee,  so  much  were  the 


66        REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

southern  men  impressed  by  Choate's  speaking  and  appear 
ance,  they  crowded  round  him,  and  more  than  once  inti 
mated  that  they  would  vote  for  him,  as  nominee,  certainly 
for  Vice  President,  if  not  for  President.  But  there  was 
no  bribe  beneath  the  stars  that  could  swerve  Choate  from 
his  allegiance  to  Webster.  Next  to  his  God,  he  believed 
in  Daniel  Webster. 

The  public  address  to  which  he  devoted  the  most  study 
of  his  life,  the  longest  time,  and  the  most  elaborate  polish, 
was  his  eulogy  on  Mr.  Webster  delivered  at  Dartmouth 
College.  Mr.  Everett  and  Mr.  Choate  were  successively 
invited  to  deliver  the  eulogy  before  the  city  authorities  of 
*  Boston,  but  each  declined.  About  the  same  time,  or  a  little 
before,  Mr.  Choate  accepted  the  invitation  of  the  college  at 
Hanover  to  deliver  a  eulogy  there.  He  remembered  that 
Dartmouth  was  his  own  college  as  well  as  that  of  the  illus 
trious  dead  ;  and,  as  he  said  to  me,  he  should  have  a  year 
to  look  over  and  think  over  the  great  theme.  "And,  be 
sides/'  said  he,  "  up  there  before  the  college  I  can  take  a 
more  scholarly  and  academic  and  wide-ranging  course  of 
illustration  than  would  be  quite  pertinent  here,  before  our 
city  dignitaries."  It  was  the  only  address  I  ever  knew  him 
to  begin  upon  before-hand.  He  was  invited  in  October, 
1852,  and  he  delivered  it  in  August,  1853.  Meantime  I 
believe  he  worked  upon  the  eulogy,  creating  its  thoughts 
and  painting  its  scenery  every  moment  which  he  could 
snatch  from  his  office  and  the  courts.  It  was  the  pastime 
and  the  toil  of  nearly  a  whole  year  to  him. 

The  delivery  of  the  oration  he  did  not  consider  to  have 
been  as  successful  as  the  scene  of  its  utterance  and  the  labor 
of  its  preparation  would  have  rendered  probable.  When 
lie  rose  to  speak,  he  was,  as  usual,  worn  down  by  anxious 
labors.  He  spoke  late  in  the  afternoon,  to  an  audience  not 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   67 

fresh,  and  with  the  shadows  of  evening  darkening  round 
him.  But  the  oration  itself  was  carefully  revised  by  him, 
and  it  is,  as  a  whole,  the  best  specimen  of  his  academic  style 
which  he  ever  pronounced  or  preserved. 

In  it  you  can  see  his  famous  long  sentences,  the  clauses 
accumulated  and  elaborated  and  rolled  on,  heaping  up  and 
resounding  like  the  long  volume  of  an  Atlantic  billow  break 
ing  upon  the  shore.  Long  as  his  sentences  are  on  the  page, 
in  his  mouth  as  delivered  they  seemed  short  and  intelligible. 
He  spoke  them  very  quickly,  but  without  headlong  haste  ; 
each  clause  had  its  full  emphasis,  and  the  subordination  of 
each  member  to  the  whole  paragraph  was  constantly  pre 
served.  These  long  sentences  in  all  his  speeches,  are  full  of 
thought,  weighty  with  occasional  aphorisms,  flashing  with 
sudden  wit,  and  decorated  with  flaming  and  florid  hues. 
As  the  gay  bird  of  Paradise,  showing  new  beauty  in  every 
feather  of  her  painted  pinions,  flashes  on  her  way  with  a 
wing  strong  from  the  ligaments  which  the  glittering  colors 
hide,  so  this  rich  rhetoric  is  inextricably  interlaced  and  in 
terwoven  with  the  substantial  thoughts  which  underlie  and 
support  it.  The  ornaments  do  but  wing  the  ideas  to  the 
goal  with  accelerated  momentum.  "The  plumage  that 
adorns  the  royal  bird  supports  its  flight/' 

This  funeral  Oration,  also,  appreciates  what  was  often 
overlooked  in  Mr.  Webster's  unpractical  statesmanship  and 
services,  so  hard  and  strong  and  matter-of-fact — that  was, 
not  the  mere  usefulness,  but  the  essential  splendor  of  his 
career. 

In  this  oration,  too,  the  oratorical  wealth  of  the  En 
glish  language  is  advantageously  seen.  The  words  of  our 
language  are  used  in  every  variety  for  impressiveness,  some 
times  for  poetical  impression,  sometimes  for  simple  strength, 
sometimes  for  mere  explanatory  description.  The  Latin  and 


68         REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

the  Saxon  elements  of  the  tongue  are  both  freely  employed. 
Next  to  the  Greek  language,  I  think  Mr.  Choate  valued  the 
English  tongue  as  a  medium  of  oratory.  The  Greek  he 
thought  superior  to  any  and  all  Gothic  tongues.  Highly  as 
he  ranked  Webster's  great  Hayne  speech,  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  say  the  Crown  speech  of  Demosthenes  was  unap 
proachable  by  any  orator  speaking  in  any  Gothic  language. 
"No  Gothic  tongue/'  I  heard  him  say,  "has  the  words  to 
make  a  c  Crown  speech'  out  of."  And  if  any  orator  ever 
knew  tvords,  both  as  weapons  of  thought  and  as  words 
merely,  it  was  himself.  How  he  studied  language,  its  ety 
mology,  its  synonyms,  and  its  very  essence,  we  shall  see 
hereafter. 

In  many  respects  this  eulogy  upon  Webster  may  be  con 
sidered  the  Crown  speech  of  Kufus  Choate's  life. 

Certainly  no  American  before  or  after  Webster  has  ever 
laid  down  in  his  grave  with  the  voice  of  a  panegyric,  so 
sustained,  so  solemn,  so  splendid,  resounding  amid  the  drums 
and  trumpets  of  his  obsequies. 

In  1847,  and  for  two  or  three  years  during  the  period  of 
my  recollections  of  him,  Mr.  Cho'ate  was  a  regent  of  the 
Smithsonian  Institute,  and  largely  contributed  to  shape  it 
for  success.  He  felt  much  interest  in  it,  and  would  take 
time  from  most  valuable  and  remunerative  labors  to  attend 
to  it.  He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  His 
torical  Society,  and  a  member  of  the  New  England  Historic 
and  Genealogical  Society. 

There  was  no  grand  scheme  for  popular  enlightenment 
or  benefit,  of  a  literary,  scientific  or  practical  character,  to 
which  he  would  not  make  time  to  lend  a  helping  thought, 
and,  if  possible,  a  helping  hand. 

When  the  project  was  first  started  of  introducing  camels 
into  the  South-west  Territories  to  perform  the  long  journeys 


REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE.   69 

of  the  vast  and  barren  spaces  there,  he  gave  himself  to 
advance  the  idea  as  if  it  were  a  private  speculation  of  his 
own.  Morning  after  morning  he  literally  tore  himself  away 
from  legal  studies  and  legal  claims  to  think  about  and  ad 
vise  in  this  most  useful  application  of  the  eastern  beast  of 
the  Desert  to  the  western  wildernesses.  He  never,  however, 
received  any  credit  for  it  from  anybody  ;  nor,  as  usually 
happened  with  his  disinterested  labors  of  love,  was  he  at 
all  publicly  known  in  the  matter  ;  though  the  experi 
ment  succeeded,  as  there  are  now  many  camels  in  the 
country. 

One  senatorial  term  in  the  Senate  of  the  Union  was  all 
the  time  given  him  on  which  to  play  any  high  national  part, 
with  the  eyes  of  the  country  upon  him.  That  was  not  long 
enough  for  the  national  mind  or  the  national  heart  to  set 
tle  towards  him,  as  undoubtedly  it  would  have  done  could 
he  have  been  well  known  throughout  the  land.  If  ever  a 
man  was  fitted  by  culture  and  by  disposition  to  be  the  dar 
ling  of  the  people,  it  was  Kufus  Choate.  He  loved  to  be 
alone  in  his  library,  but  all  his  intellectual  sympathies  were 
with  the  great,  passionate,  eloquence-loving  people.  The 
people,  the  Democracy  are  eloquent.  An  Aristocracy  or 
the  courts  of  an  empire  are  stiff  and  silent.  Tacitus,  Mr. 
Choate  used  to  say  to  me,  was  the  Macaulay  of  antiquity. 
But  Tacitus,  he  added,  was  unhappy,  for  his  only  sunshine 
was  the  smile  of  the  emperor  ;  but  in  his  breast  were  all 
the  swelling  sentiments  of  Koman  history  and  grandeur, 
guarded  and  silent. 

Mr.  Choate's  knowledge  of  the  people  was  far  more 
practical  than  has  been  thought.  He  knew  their  routine 
of  life,  their  various  thinkings,  their  tastes,  their  jealousies, 
their  ambitions  ;  and  he  sympathized  with  them  far  more 
than  he  did  with  the  artificial  etiquette  and  conventional 


70      REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

clownishness  of  classes  who  think  themselves  above,,  the 
people.  Golden  parlors  and  the  glittering  life  of  wealth 
he  had  no  fancy  for.  He  said  that  he  thought  what  was 
called  "  society"  in  this  country  was  frivolous  and  unprof 
itable  ;  its  thoughts  feeble,  its  talk  trivial,  and  its  person 
ages  usually  people  of  no  real  account.  In  his  youth  he 
had  driven  the  cows  to  pasture  ;  he  had  kept  Thanksgiving 
with  the  boys  and  girls  of  old  Essex  ;  he  had  gone  to  "  the 
muster,"  he  had  gone  to  the  plain  country  church  ;  and  no 
son  of  New  England  felt  more  deeply  than  he  the  imprint 
upon  his  nature  of  genuine  New  England  country  institu 
tions.  A  haughty  and  foreign  tone  he  was  as  incapable  of 
taking  into  his  mind,  as  he  was  of  receiving  a  "  foreign  air" 
upon  his  good  old  Essex  county  manners. 

Hence  came  all  the  allusions  and  images  which  dot  and 
sometimes  even  dignify  his  oratory,  taken  from  plain  New 
England  life.  The  school,  the  home,  and  the  table  with 
the  Bible  on  it,  the  meeting-house,  the  desk,  the  continen 
tal  battle  field,  and  even  the  capricious  weather  of  our  ice 
bound,  Puritanic  Massachusetts.  Had  events,  therefore, 
taken  him  upon  the  high  places  of  national  observation,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  won  the  heart  of  America.  In 
other  States,  as  in  his  own  State,  people  who  disagreed 
with  him  would  have  pardoned  him,  and  multitudes  who 
could  not  comprehend  him  would  have  been  fond  of  and 
admired  him. 

I  think  he  had  a  feeling  in  his  own  mind  that  the  na 
tional  Senate  was,  after  all,  the  fit  theater  to  close  his  life. 
All  the  really  great  men  of  the  Senate,  he  would  remark 
in  conversation,  are  or  have  been  able  lawyers.  Law  pre 
pares  a  man  for  statesmanship.  The  United  States  Senate 
is  the  most  dignified  and  attractive  body  in  America,  if  not 
in  all  the  world.  Edmund  Burke  might  have  spoken  there 


KEMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS     CHOATE.        71 

with  far  more  effect  than  in  the  British  House  of  Commons. 
The  Hayne  speech  of  Mr.  Wehster  was  possible  in  the  Amer 
ican  Senate  ;  it  would  not  have  been  possible  in  the  Brit 
ish  Parliament.  The  society  of  Washington  concentrates 
the  most  celebrated  men  in  all  North  America.  Kemarks 
like  these,  which  he  more  than  once  made  to  me,  would 
lead  to  the  belief  that,  had  politics  pointed  differently 
among  his  constituents,  it  would  have  been  very  grateful 
to  him  to  round  and  crown  his  life  of  toils,  so  terrible,  by  a 
series  of  intellectual  services  rendered  to  his  country,  while 
standing  on  summits  of  political  eminence  so  splendid  that 
her  eye  and  ear  must  inevitably  have  been  attracted  a-nd 
fixed  upon  his  whole  past  and  present  professional  career. 
Then  the  power  and  beauty  of  his  accomplished  utterance 
would  have  been  felt  all  over  the  land  ;  and  then  he  would 
not  have  died,  as  some  would  style  him,  a  "  Massachusetts 
great  man,"  but  an  American  great  man. 

Now,  however,  whatever  may  be  published  about  him 
will  never  give  him  the  place  in  universal  memory  to  which 
his  unlimited  wealth  of  learning,  his  comprehensive  and 
varied  powers,  the  wide  scope  and  sheer  strength  of  his 
understanding  entitled  him.  He  claimed  no  position  for 
himself,  and  the  world  does  not  know  him  well  enough  to 
take  him  and  place  him  in  his  appropriate  niche.  Vaguely 
and  beautifully  the  dim  traditions  of  the  wise  thoughts, 
couched  in  exquisite  language,  which  fascinated  multi 
tudes,  will  float  about  men's  stories  and  recollections  ; 
but  when  Youth  turns  to  the  book,  and  the  volumes  of  his 
Speeches  are  opened,  the  song  of  the  strange  man  will  be 
hushed, — and  the  music  of  no  other  orator  can  recall  it  to 
us  again. 

Inasmuch  as  events  denied  him  this  political  plane  of 
final  effort,  it  was  very  unlucky  for  Mr.  Choate  that  no 


72  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

series  of  law  cases  of  national  interest  presented  them 
selves,  for  his  advocacy,  during  his  service  at  the  Bar.  Er- 
skine  had  in  his  court  room  a  vast  stage  erected,  upon 
which  the  eyes  of  all  England  were  fixed,  when  he  defended 
her  free  Press,  and  baffled  her  Prime  Minister's  prosecutions. 
And  the  jury  eloquence  of  Curran,  when  he  stood  up  for 
his  countrymen,  persecuted  by  the  spies  and  informers  of 
Tory  administrations,  reverberated  through  Ireland,  and  all 
over  the  world.  In  our  own  country,  William  Will,  Pink- 
ney,  and  Sargeant  S.  Prentiss,  had  each  of  them  opportu 
nities  of  professional  achievement  of  great  national  inter 
est.  Will's  description  of  that  Catiline  of  the  Union, 
Aaron  Burr  ;  and  the  fairy  island  in  the  Ohio,  on  which 
Blennerhassett  had  reared  "  the  shrubbery  that  Shenstone 
might  have  envied,"  long  lived  in  the  recollections  of  his 
own  generation,  and  are  now  repeated  in  every  school-room 
by  the  rising  generation  of  Young- America.  Pinkney 
passed  the  prime  of  his  career  in  the  national  capital,  with 
the  thoughts  of  America  turned  to  him  for  more  than  ten 
years  as  the  most  brilliant  orator  she  could  show  to  the 
world  ;  and  Sargeant  S.  Prentiss  enjoyed  at  least  one 
chance  of  national  attention.  For  when  he  maintained 
in  Congress  his  legal  right  to  a  seat,  as  the  representative 
of  a  sovereign  State  under  her  broad  seal,  he  was  listened 
to  by  a  national  audience  stretching  beyond  the  white 
peaks  of  the  Alleghanies,  and  beyond  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Mississippi.  But  at  no  portion  of  Mr.  Choate's  profes 
sional  course  did  the  horizon  of  his  professional  duties 
open  in  the  direction  of  such  scenes  of  noble  interest.  His 
course  was  the  routine  of  an  eminent  New  England  lawyer ; 
but  unlike  those  champions  of  the  Courts,  to  whom,  he  was 
in  no  sense  intellectually  inferior,  it  was  never  interrupted 
by  any  passage  of  grand  occasions  sufficiently  elevated  to 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  73 

give  to  his  professional  life  even  one  scene  of  high,  sus 
tained,  and  epic  interest. 

Students  will  hereafter  read  his  arguments  in  the  law 
reports,  and  scholars  will  read  his  rhetoric  in  the  volumes 
of  his  speeches  ;  but  unless  some  wizard  rises  to  call  him 
hack,  by  his  words,  to  our  fond  imaginations,  none  shall 
bid  those  dry  bones  live  again.  None  but  a  magician  like 
himself,  "  a  conjuror/'  as  his  first  rivals  called  him,  shall 
teach  those  who  have  not  heard  him  in  the  moments  of 
his  supreme  passion,  to  know  and  understand  this  meteoric 
man.  He  was  an  Athenian  Greek  kept  back  for  New 
England ;  and,  nurtured  at  her  bosom,  he  learned  to  love 
his  mother  land.  But  his  mind  seemed  ever  yearning  for 
the  ancient  clime  of  historic  splendor ;  the  oaken  chaplet ; 
the  pomp  of  the  processions  ;  the  games,  the  rhapsodists, 
the  strange  eloquence  that  shook  the  world  to  Artaxerxes' 
throne. 

The  desire  was  often  expressed  that  he  might  snatch 
from  life  the  leisure  for  a  book  011  some  inspiring  theme, 
in  which  his  genius  might  be  in  some  fuller  manner  da- 
guerreotyped  than  it  could  possibly  be  in  speeches  upon 
temporary  topics  and  of  hasty  production.  And  at  one 
time  the  literary  world  were  startled  by  the  positive  an 
nouncement  that  he  was  actually  engaged  upon  a  history 
of  that  brilliant  democracy  of  Greece  with  whose  arena  he 
was  so  fondly  familiar.  But  although  I  believe  that  at 
one  time  he  contemplated  something  of  the  sort,  yet  it  was 
soon  abandoned  ;  for,  as  he  said  to  me,  "  I  might  seize 
the  time,  but  I  can't  get-  my  mind  into  the  frame  to  com 
pose.  When  I  come  home,  even  if  I  have  an  hour  or  two 
to  spare,  my  mind  is  torn  to  pieces  by  the  jar  of  the  day, 
and  I  cannot  do  more  than  get  in  the  mood  for  composition 
when  I  find  niy  time  is  up."  Although  great  orators  do  not 

4 


74   HEMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

usually  make  good  writers,  as  Charles  James  Fox  exem 
plified  in  his  fragment  of  English  history,  yet  such  was 
Mr.  Choate's  critical  and  life-long  classic  culture,  that  it 
would  be  generally  agreed  by  those  who  knew  him  best, 
that  had  he  gone  abroad  and  devoted  a  year  or  two  to  the 
production  of  a  brief,  brilliant,  and  truly  Choatean  volume 
on  a  congenial  theme,  it  would  have  been  to  him  a  monu 
ment  more  lasting  than  brass  ;  and  it  would  certainly  be 
far  better  than  the  best  memorial  which  any  others  can 
now  build  for  him. 

In  one  point  his  life  was  a  noble  example  to  youth. 
Although  apparently  of  a  temperament  burning  up  with 
all  the  passion  of  the  East,  yet  never,  amid  all  his  suc 
cesses,  his  flatteries  or  his  temptations,  did  he  abandon 
himself  for  a  moment  to  any  dissipations.  ^"StudiousTwell- 
governed,  intellectual  to  the  last,  he  neither  allowed  him 
self  to  wander  about  idly,  like  Erskine,  babbling  with  a 
silly  vanity  of  his  past  glories  ;  nor,  like  too  many  of  the 
dazzling  men  of  England  and  America,  did  he  grow  luxu 
rious  with  success,  and  lose  himself  in  the  vortex  of  any 
vices.  When  men  of  ardent  genius  have  gained  the  goals 
which  shone  afar  upon  their  youth,  the  excitements  of  hope 
die  away,  and  too  often  they  seek,  in  wine  or  gambling  or 
other  stimulants,  the  delightful  delirium  of  passionate 
joys.  But  no  man  ever  saw  Mr.  Choate  press  the  Circean 
cup  too  freely  to  his  lips  ;  and  no  friend  mourned  to  behold 
him  put  life  and  honor  in  the  dice-boxes  of  chance. 

It  was  often  hinted  that  he  was  secretly  an  opium- 
eater  ;  and  that  thus  he  baffled  scrutiny,  and  rose  in  secret 
into  the  hellish  heaven  of  sensual  voluptuousness.  I  know 
that  this  was  not  so  ;  and  for  three  reasons  :  first,  he  told 
me  himself  that  he  had  never  taken  an  opium  narcotic 
except  once,  in  the  form  of  laudanum,  for  a  troublesome 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   75 

tooth,  and  then  it  almost  drove  him  distracted.  This  is 
confirmed  by  the  Eev.  Dr.  Adams,  his  clergyman,  who  de 
nied  it  solemnly  standing  over  his  coffin.  He  based  his 
confidence  upon  the  physician  who  had  been  Mr.  Choate's 
medical  attendant  for  twenty  years,  who  said  that,  so  far 
from  Mr.  Choate's  system  being  affected  by  opium,  he 
could  put  him  to  sleep  writh  a  Dover's  powder.  Second  ;  in 
all  the  time  in  which  I  was  in  his  office  and  saw  him 
hourly,  and  afterwards  when  seeing  him  freely  and  con 
stantly  in  his  library  or  in  his  chamber,  sick  or  well,  sitting 
up  or  lying  down,  I  never  observed  the  slightest  trace  or 
indication  of  the  use  or  presence  of  this  drug  ;  and  third, 
and  most  decisive,  the  effect  of  opium  as  described  by  men 
of  science,  and  as  exemplified  in  the  splendid  but  scattering 
intellect  of  De  Quincey,  is  to  unloose  the  grasp  of  the  logi 
cal  faculty,  to  brighten  the  mind  preternaturally,  but  to 
render  its  operations  less  consecutive  and  close  to  the  point. 
Now,  Mr.  Choate's  logical  processes  were  finer  and  firmer 
as  he  grew  older,  to  the  very  last.  His  reasoning  powers 
grew  even  stronger  with  his  years.  If  he  lost  anywhere, 
it  was  in  the  flash  and  fervor  of  his  intellectual  action  ;  but 
to  the  very  last,  his  logical  powers  played  with  remorseless 
accuracy  and  steadiness. 

This  last  reason  for  exonerating  him  from  all  this 
charge  of  opium  indulgence  is  unanswerable.  Probably, 
what  gave  the  charge  the  little  currency  it  ever  had,  was 
the  corrugated,  bloodless,  startling  look  of  his  haggard 
physiognomy.  But  the  strange  worn  look  was  the  result 
of  the  stormy  working  of  his  brain  vexed  by  incessant 
toils,  not  the  result  of  unholy  passion  in  its  agony  of  delight. 
Speaking  to  me  of  a  renowned  statesman  across  the  water, 
he  said,  "He  drinks  brandy  so  badly,  that  it's  an  even 
chance  at  any  moment,  whether  he's  drunk  or  sober.  He 


76   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

has  no  excuse  whatever  for  it.  The  excitement  of  his  legal 
profession  is  over,  to  be  sure.,  but  he  is  unpardonable,  for 
he  is  a  learned  man  ;  he  knows  every  thing ;  he  has  all 
literature,  all  knowledges  to  fall  back  upon." 

Upon  "  literature  and  all  knowledges/'  Mr.  Choate  him 
self  fell  back  more  and  more  in  his  later  years  ;  and  the 
consolations  it  gave  him  should  admonish  young  genius 
everywhere,  especially  in  our  excitable  land,  to  cultivate 
it  as  an  ultimate  refuge  and  solace. 

For  this  example  of  self-restraint,  then  ;  this  career 
which  eschewed  and  scorned  dissipation  ;  this  sustained  and 
dignified  industry  ;  this  conquest  of  the  sensual  and  exal 
tation  of  the  intellectual  elements  of  happiness,  the  life  of 
Mr.  Choate  is,  indeed,  admirable.  ^He  never  wandered 
round  among  men — the  relic  of  himself — a  man  of  pleasure 
and  success,  the  walking  epitaph  of  his  heroic  days  ;  but 
he  kept  his  armor  on  and  his  drill  up  to  the  mark  of  battle, 
and  died  in  the  very  midst  of  professional  war. 

"  The  old  Whig  party  is  dead,"  said  Daniel  Webster, 
gasping,  on  his  death-bed.  Mr.  Choate  was  a  Whig  of  two 
generations.  In  1856,  when  the  Republican  party  nomi 
nated  Colonel  John  C.  Fremont  as  President,  many  Whigs 
joined  them.  Still  more  rallied  around  the  neutral  flag  of 
Fillrnore.  But  Choate  came  out  flat-footed  and  fair-faced 
for  Buchanan,  the  nominee  of  the  party  against  which,  for 
more  than  thirty  years,  he  had  volleyed  incessant  thunder. 
It  is  not  the  province  of  these  Reminiscences  to  defend  or 
to  assail  him  for  this  act.  I  have  only  to  say  that  as  one 
opposed  to  those  politics  which  he  then  took  up,  I  know 
that  his  motives  in  the  action  were  pure,  high  and  noble. 

He  talked  with  me  upon  this  subject  long  and  earnestly. 
The  sacredness  of  conversation,  whose  character  would 
naturally  stamp  it  as  private,  although  no  seal  of  secrecy 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     77 

enjoined  its  inviolability,  forbids  its  publication.  But  I 
may  say  that  all  the  line  of  argument  and  observation  he 
suggested  to  me  upon  it,  was  patriotic,  disinterested  and 
statesmanlike.  I  had  the  misfortune  then  to  experience 
the  only  great  difference  of  feeling  from  him  I  ever  knew 
during  all  the  years  in  Avhich  he  honored  me  with  his  pa 
ternal  kindness.  But  from  all  he  said  to  me,  no  one  for 
an  instant  could  have  doubted  the  purity  of  his  heart  or 
the  uprightness  of  his  mind  in  taking  this  political  atti 
tude.  When  the  strifes  of  present  parties  are  over,  history 
will  do  him  justice  on  this  point. 

It  shows  the  moral  power  of  a  great  civilian  out  of 
office  in  America,  that  this  man's  all  but  silent  example 
exercised  so  much  influence  on  this  national  question. 
Two  powers  defeated  John  C.  Fremont :  moral  power  and 
money  power.  The  latter  was  not  necessarily  corruptly 
exercised,  but  invisibly,  by  a  thousand  channels,  Capital 
baffled  his  partisans  ;  the  former  was  the  immense  prestige 
of  a  few  men  of  signal  intellectual  position,  formerly 
Whigs,  who  threw  their  moral  weight  into  the  hostile 
side  of  the  great  balances.  Of  all  these,  I  think  Rufus 
Choate's  name  and  fame  stood  foremost.  It  was  as  effect 
ive  as  it  was  illustrious  ;  and  that  effect  shows  his  real 
power. 

Singular  in  his  death  as  in  his  life,  he  went  away  to 
breathe  his  last  breath  comparatively  alone  with  his 
thoughts  and  his  soliloquies.  There  was  in  this  a  poetic 
consistency  with  his  life.  For  although  for  ever  in  the 
midst  of  his  clients  or  his  household,  he  always  seemed 
lonely  and  solitary.  My  impression  is  that  when  he  went 
away  he  never  expected  to  come  back,  but  that  he  antici 
pated  dying  in  a  more  distant  and  genial  clime  than  the 
one  where  his  death-bed  proved  to  be. 


78  REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE. 

Sixty  years  was  the  span  of  his  life,  but  when  we  think 
not  how  long,  but  how  much  he  lived,  it  was  not  a  short 
life.  Every  hour  of  his  existence  was  full  of  thoughts  and 
pictures,  and  an  inner  life  of  vast  variety  and  beauty.  Ex 
cept  when  he  was  in  the  tumult  of  a  trial  at  the  Bar,  the 
outer  world  was  not  his  world.  Deep  and  far  in  the  re 
cesses  of  his  brain  he  was  ever  revolving  the  scenery  of  the 
world's  great  days,  and  the  thoughts  and  faces  of  memor 
able  men.  Start  him  upon  a  conversation,  at  any  time, 
about  any  personage  of  splendor  in  history  and  you  would 
find  he  knew  him  and  talked  of  him,  as  promptly  and  en 
thusiastically,  as  if  he  were  still  flesh  and  blood.  Among 
the  illustrious  men  of  antiquity,  he  had  many  friends  ;  and 
he  seemed  to  feel  as  jealous  for  their  honor  and  as  prompt 
to  resent  unjust  criticisms  upon  them,  as  if  he  had  met 
them,  that  very  day,  at  dinner.  If  you  looked  at  him,  in 
one  point  of  view,  you  would  say  he  was  New  England 
born,  and  New  England  bred  ;  if  you  looked  at  him  in 
another  and  more  general  aspect,  you  would  pronounce  him 
Grecian  to  the  back  bone.  Perhaps  the  true  formula  for 
his  description  would  be  to  say,  that  he  was  a  sort  of  cross 
between  the  Greek  and  the  Yankee  civilizations. 

To  any  student  of  mankind  it  must  have  been  a  great 
satisfaction  to  have  seen  him  ;  for  there  is  nobody  exactly 
like  him  on  the  earth,  and  it  may  be  said  without  exag 
geration,  that  his  singular  and  paradoxical  genius,  char 
acter  and  person  have  given  a  new  type  of  man  to  our 
modern  civilization. 


CHAPTER    III. 

PERSONAL     REMINISCENCES. 

MR.  CHOATE,  at  the  time  I  was  a  student  in  his  office, 
was  rather  a  tall  and  full-sized  man,  and  looked  worn  but 
sturdy  jand,  muscular.  He  was  strongly  built ;  with  big 
bones,  broad  shoulders,  large  feet  and  bony  hands,  and  of 
a  tough  fiber  in  his  general  physique.  More  than  this,  he 
had  the  nervous  bilious  temperament,  the  temperament 
for  hard  work  as  well  as  brilliant  work.  His  chest  was 
wide  and  powerful.  And  his  floating  hair,  which  is  in 
some  degree  a  test  of  a  strong  constitution,  resisted  all  the 
inflammation  of  his  busy  brain,  and  remained  to  the  last 
firmly  set.  It  was  always  black  and  hardly  tinged  at  all 
with  those  gray  hues  which  have  been  aptly  called  the 
white  flag  of  truce  which  old  age  hangs  out  to  the  hatreds 
of  life.  He  was  a  very  strong  man,  capable  of  vast  fatigue 
and  endurance.  From  his  frequent  sick  headaches  and  the 
look  of  his  fatigued  face,  many  supposed  him  physically  a 
feeb]a  man.  He  was  very  far  from  feeble.  It  was  _  not 
feebleness,  but  immense  over- work  which  continually  wore 
him  down. 

He  had  no  recreation  for  his  brain  but  change  of  labors. 
He  walked  daily  with  great  vigor  out  of  the  town  or  round 
Boston  Common  ;  but  his  mind  was  at  work  all  the  time. 
Those  who  met  him  in  the  gray  of  the  morning  would  see 
his  lips  moving,  and  his  features  working,  as  though  even 
then  he  were  ejaculating  and  recalling  thoughts.  Some- 


80  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

times  he  carried  a  book  of  poetry  with  him,  to  cheer  and 
floralize  his  mind  for  the  day  of  dry  law  before  him. 

I  think  he  preferred  to  imagine  nature,  rather  than  to 
observe  her.  He  would  rather,  if  he  were  walking  in  syl 
van  scenery,  read  about  other  arcadian  groves  than  to  look 
around  him  critically.  He  had  no  fancy  for  game  or  sport 
of  any  kind.  Horses  he  knew  nothing  of  practically,  and 
was  as  indifferent  to  a  blood-mare  of  Arab  stock  as  if  she 
had  been  a  cart  horse  from  Washington  street  or  an  omni 
bus  horse  from  Broadway.  I  recollect  showing  him  some 
good  horses,  in  the  stable,  upon  an  occasion  of  his  dining 
with  me  out  of  town  ;  and  pointing  out  to  him  many 
stable  improvements  recently  introduced.  He  stared  va 
cantly  round  upon  the  stalls  and  harnesses  without  the 
least  curiosity  or  interest,  and  got  back  into  the  house  as 
soon  as  he  could.  In  driving  him  home  in  a  little  wagon, 
the  horse  broke  into  a  fast  trot ;  Mr.  Choate  instantly  put 
out  his  hand,  and  said  with  most  deliberate  emphasis,  "  I 
want  you  to  drive  me  as  slowly  and  as  carefully  as  if  I 
were  a  Methodist  minister  going  to  meeting." 

Books  were  his  pastime,  and  books  only.  In  them  he 
literally  lived,  moved  and  had  his  being.  His  library  -raas 
his  home.  His  authors  were  the  loves  of  his  life.  Men,  he 
was  kind  to,  but  I  do  not  think  he  trusted  men  much.  But 
his  books  he  believed  in,  with  all  his  soul.  He  told  me 
that  it  was  a  great  pastime  to  him,  simply  to  pull  them 
down  and  put  them  up,  and  rearrange  and  fuss  over  them. 
He  cherished  rare  editions.  He  bought  books,  till  every 
inch  of  space  on  the  walls  of  his  long  library  was  filled, 
and  he  said  he  must  put  the  rest  under  his  bed.  HtLhad 
in  his  library  some  eight  thousand  volumes.  Many  vol 
umes  ~6f  engravings  and  plates  also,  he  accumulated ;  for 
his  love  of  the  beautiful  was  not  so  much  a  blood  love,  as 


REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     C II  GATE.  81 

it  was  an  intellectual  love.  He  said,  pictures,  heads  and 
scenes  enlivened  and  cultivated  one's  fancy.  These  books 
were  bought  not  to  be  looked  at  but  to  be  read.  He  grasped 
the  thoughts  of  a  book  like  lightning  •  and  he  was  for  ever 
reading.  He  read  while  walking.  He  read  while  at  his 
meals.  He  was  at  one  time  so  lame  as  to  be  unable  to 
walk  to  and  from  Court,  but  he  had  his  carriage  seat  half 
covered  with  books,  which  he  consumed  as  he  rode.  How 
he  loved  his  library  and  his  books,  and  what  consolation  he 
found  there  and  in  them,  may  best  be  gathered  from  the 
following  extract  from  his  beautiful  address  at  the  opening 
of  the  Peabody  Institute  at  Danvers,  Massachusetts.  "  Let 
the  case  of  a  busy  lawyer  testify  to  the  priceless  value  of 
the  love  of  reading.  He  comes  home,  his  temples  throb 
bing,  his  nerves  shattered  from  a  trial  of  a  week ;  surprised 
and  alarmed  by  the  charge  of  the  judge,  and  pale  with 
anxiety  about  the  verdict  of  the  next  morning  ;  not  at  all 
satisfied  with  what  he  has  done  himself,  though  he  does  not 
see  how  he  could  have  improved  it ;  recalling  with  dread 
and  self  disparagement,  if  not  with  envy,  the  brilliant 
effort  of  his  antagonist,  and  tormenting  himself  with  the 
vain  wish  that  he  could  have  replied  to  it — and  altogether 
a  very  miserable  subject,  and  in  as  unfavorable  a  condition 
to  accept  comfort  from  wife  and  children  as  poor  Christian 
in  the  first  three  pages  of  Pilgrim's  Progress.  With  a 
superhuman  effort  he  opens  his  book,  and  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  he  is  looking  into  the  full  '  orb  of  Homeric  and 
Miltonic  song/  or  Pope  or  Horace  laughs  him  into  good 
humor,"  etc.  He  told  me  that  in  his  youth  he  had  fre 
quently  read  inspiring  sentences  of  ambition  and  splendor 
in  literature  which  made  him  burn  all  over,  or,  as  he 
quaintly  expressed  it,  "  they  made  me  have  goose  flesh  all 
down  my  back." 

4* 


82       B,  EM  IN1SCENOES     OF     EUFUS     C  II  GATE. 

He  read  every  thing,  not  only  new  issues,  but  the  Old 
Masters  of  discourse  and  thinking.  Bacon,  Burke,  the 
Bible,  Milton,  Pope  ;  and  of  the  ancients,  Plato  and  De 
mosthenes,  Tacitus  and  Cicero.  These  he  knew  and  never 
dropped  them.  Their  thoughts  and  phrases  sparkled  for 
ever  on  his  tongue.  He_told  me  he  learned  some  poetry 
every  day  of  his  life.  In  the  conversations  which  are 
detailed  in  this  book,  it  may  be  seen  clearly  who  his  ac 
quaintances  and  friends  in  literature  were,  and  how  inti 
mately  he  knew  them. 

Cicero,  especially,  was  his  idolatry  as  a  man,  an  orator 
and  a  writer.  He  said  Demosthenes  was  the  greater  ora 
tor,  but  he  never  spoke  of  Demosthenes  with  that  tone  of 
affection  he  would  express  toward  Cicero.  Hereafter  in 
this  book  will  be  found  a  fond  defense  of  Cicero  dictated  to 
me  by  him.  He  said,  nothing  made  him  fret  more  than  the 
modern  German  attacks  on  Cicero  as  a  pusillanimous  trim 
mer.  He  said  he  wanted  to  set  Cicero  right  before  the 
world  ;  "  however,"  he  added,  "  there  is  only  one  man  in 
the  world  whom  I  would  care  very  much  to  set  right  about 
him — that  is  Macaulay!'  I  never  saw  him  so  moved  about 
any  attack  upon  himself  as  he  was  by  the  New  York  Tri 
bune's  disparagement  of  Cicero,  in  criticising  his  own  lec 
ture  on  Kevolutionary  Orators.  For  Tully,  he  had  indeed 
a  loyal  and  a  lyric  enthusiasm. 

He  took  the  Valedictory  Address  at  his  College,  and 
starting  in  life  with  a  very  fair  classical  education,  he  sus 
tained  and  added  to  it  during  all  his  career.  Mr.  Webster 
once  expressed  to  a  friend,  in  my  hearing,  his  amazement 
at  the  scholarship  of  a  man  so  busy  in  life.  "  Why,"  said 
he,  "  Choate  reads  his  classics  every  day,"  and  so  he  did — 
Greek  and  Latin  both.  During  the  last  few  years  of  his 
life,  he  even  perfected  his  knowledge  of  German.  "  All  the 


K  E  M  I  N  I  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF      R  U  F  U  S      C  H  O  A  T  E .        83 

new  and  daring  thought  and  speculation/'  said  he  to  me, 
"is  in  the  German  mind."  Therefore  he  studied  it. 

Although  he  had  no  fancy  for  mechanical  employments, 
and  had  literally  no  Yankee  knack  with  his  hands,  yet  he 
liked  to  read  about  mechanical  movements  and  physical 
objects.  He  cared  nothing  for  soldiership,  but  he  liked  to 
read  about  armies  and  strategy.  Indeed,  there  was  very 
little  in  the  world  that  he  did  not  like  to  see,  there  was  still 
less  in  the  world  that  he  did  not  care  to  read  about.  A 
prominent  Counselor  of  the  New  England  Bar,  of  lettered 
accomplishment,  once  said,  "  Choate  is  omniscient.  I 
thought  I  must  know  more  about  one  subject  than  he  did 
— the  naval  battles  of  the  last  war  with  England  ;  but  no  : 
he  convinced  me  of  my  errors,  and  demonstrated  them  by 
showing  me  what  the  evolutions  of  the  ships  must  have 
been/' 

I  met  him  once  walking,  and  after  the  first  salute  was 
over,  said  he,  "I  was  just  recalling  that  fine  sweeping  sen 
tence  with  which  Southey  closes  his  life  of  Admiral  Nel 
son,  '  That  joy,  that  consolation,  that  triumph  was  his/ 
It  is,"  he  added,  "fine,  and  a  beautiful  climax/7  It  was 
a  summer's  afternoon,  a  sky  gleaming  with  golden  and 
snowy  clouds,  blue  waters  laughing  in  the  sunlight,  but 
Choate  did  not  notice  sky,  cloud,  or  water  ;  his  thoughts 
were  on  the  printed  pages  of  his  beloved  books. 

It  is  thus  apparent,  from  this  whole  view  of  him,  how 
deprived  of  recreation  his  mental  faculties  were.  And  so  it 
can  be  inferred  what  the  strength  of  a  constitution  must 
hove  been,  which  could  keep  in  play  and  tolerant  of  such 
toil,  for  sixty  long  years.  Kecently  two  of  the  most  inti 
mate  of  his  rivals  at  the  Bar,  remarked  to  me,  without 
knowing  that  the  other  had  said  it,  that  Choate's  vigor  of 
muscle  and  nerve,  and  whole  physique,  was  prodigious.  He 


84       REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

told  me  himself,  that  lie  could  work  on  in  Court,  day  after 
day  for  weeks,  if  he  could  only  have  his  evenings  free  for 
rest. 

And  so  he  did  work — work  for  forty  years,  and  died  at 
last  of  an  acute  disease,  not  even  then  worn  out.  I  have 
in  my  possession  a  very  interesting  manuscript  book  of  his, 
written  in  1830,  about  five  years  after  he  was  admitted  to 
the  Bar,  which  illustrates  the  diversified  detail  of  his  intel 
lectual  toil.  On  the  first  page  it  reads  thus  : 

"NOVEMBER  4,  1830. 


"  1.  Memory,  Ambulo,  Daily  Food,  and  Correspond 
ence  ;  Voice,  manner  ;  exercitationes  diurnce,. 

"2.  Current  Politics  in  papers  ;  1.  Cum  notulis — daily 
— Greog.  ;  2.  Annual  Reg'rs. — Past  Intelligencers. 

"3.  District  S.  E.,  Pop.,  Occs.,  Modes  of  living,  Com 
merce,  Treaties,  and  principles  on  which  it  de 
pends. 

"  4.  Civil  history  of  U.  States. 

"5.  Examination  of  pending  questions — Tariff,  Pub. 
Lands,  Indians,  Nullification. 

a  6.  American  and  British  Eloquence,  Writing  and 
Practice/' 

This  was  the  scheme  of  daily  private  toils  of  the  man 
who  had  more  legal  business  on  his  hands  than  any  other 
youth  in  Essex  county.  Accordingly  his  manuscript  goes  on 
with  a  most  minute  and  exhaustive  analysis  and  digest  of 
a  multitude  of  facts.  Presidents'  messages,  statistics  of 
trade,  etc.,  bearing  upon  the  topics  above  mentioned.  If 
such  was  the  labor  of  youth,  what  must  manhood  have 
been  in  its  industry  ?  People  who  heard  Mr.  Choate  in  an 


REMINISCENCES    OF    KUFUS     C II  GATE.  85 

evening  on  a  platform,  did  not  make  allowance  for  his  hav 
ing  been  jaded  all  day  in  Court,  and  compared  his  perform 
ances  with  those  who  came  fresh  from  their  libraries  and 
their  sleep.  Could  he  ever  have  rested  from  professional 
toil,  his  public  performances  would  have  been  far  more 
effective. 

The  only  chronic  trouble  of  his  health  was  very  acute 
sick  headache.  These  were  so  violent  as  to  prostrate  him. 
"  However/'  said  he  one  day,  when  he  was  rubbing  his  fore 
head  to  a  blister  for  his  pain,  "  I've  had  these  confounded 
things  so  long,  I  should  be  scared  into  my  grave  if  they 
should  suddenly  stogjittacking  me."  Sometimes  he  could 
fight  them  off,  but  more  often  he  surrendered  at  discretion 
and  went  home. 

I  am  anxious  to  correct  this  impression  that  Mr.  Choate 
was  in  any  degree  a  sickly  or  feeble  man  physically.  His 
greatness  was,  in  his  physical  energies,  quite  as  much  as  it 
was  in  his  intellectual  energies.  In  his  jmithj  when  unde 
veloped,  he  was  feeble,  and  anticipated  an  early  death,  but 
in  his  manhood  he  was  mighty  in  force  and  stature-.  ;*-;  - 
what  we  may  about  the  will  conquering  the  body,  will  can 
not  create  a  body  ;  and  sick  men  do  not  do  the  work  of  this 
world.  Erskine  boasted  that  for  twenty  years  he  had  never 
been  kept  a  day  from  court  by  ill  health  ;  and  Curran 
could  rise  before  a  jury  after  a  session  of  sixteen  hours, 
with  only  twenty  minutes'  intermission,  and  make  one  of 
the  most  memorable  arguments  of  his  life. 

In  his  manners  and  personal  address,  Mr.  Choate  was 
always  uncouth.  He  had  no  grace  of  action.  In  a  social 
or  set  dress  party  he  was  a  forlorn  looking  man. 

Mr.  Choate  never  seemed  to  me  what  would  be  called  a 
believing  man — a  man  of  faith.  He  believed  in  what  he  saw 
and  in  Euclid.  Beyond  that  was  the  field  of  doubt  and  ad- 


86  REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

vocacy.  And  the  moment  that  field  was  entered,  his  intel 
lect  of  Grecian  subtlety  saw  too  many  arguments  on  both 
sides  for  unshaken  confidence  in  any  thing.  The  remarks 
of  his  minister  at  his  funeral,  however,  would  indicate  that 
he  accepted  the  Christian  religion.  But  when  a  proof  was 
sent  him  of  a  great  work  on  "  The  Doctrine  of  the  Im 
mortal  Life/'  he  thanked  its  author,  in  reply,  for  his  work 
on  "  this  grand)  sai  subject  of  the  immortality! ' 

His  long  and  bnely  walks  were  a  decided  feature  in 
his  life.  He  never,  during  my  time  of  observation  of  him, 
walked  habitually  with  anybody,  except  his  brother-in- 
law,  Mr.  Bell.  After  Mr.  Bell's  death  he  walked  alone. 
These  walks  he  took  early  in  the  morning,  in  order  to  be 
certain  to  gain  his  daily  amount  of  exercise  before  the  busi 
ness  of  the  day  involved  him  inextricably.  I  told  him  once 
that  walking  before  breakfast  was  exhausting  to  most  peo 
ple,  and  I  had  found  it  so  myself.  "  You  did  not  give  it  a 
long  enough  trial  then/'  said  he.  "  You  may  depend  upon 
it  it  works  well." 

He  used,  in  later  years,  to  have  a  little  apparatus  for 
making  tea  in  his  study  in  the  morning  ;  and  rising  before 
daylight,  in  the  winter,  he  would  make  his  own  cup  of  tea, 
and  work  regularly  an  hour  or  two  at  his  law  before  break 
fast.  He  rose  early  and  went  to  bed  very  early.  He  thought 
the  early  morning  the  true  time  for  work,  though  he  told 
me,  when  in  his  office,  "  Don't  be  afraid  of  study.  When 
I  was  your  age,  I  studied  till  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.'' 

He  had  a  queer  theory  about  his  walking.  It  was  that 
exercise  did  one  no  good  unless  there  was  perspiration  ;  and 
in  proportion  to  the  perspiration  was  the  benefit.  If  this 
was  true,  he  ought  to  have  lived  a  thousand  years  ;  for  no 
speaker  in  our  courts  ever  exhibited  more  perspiration  in 
the  midst  of  his  inspiration  than  he  did. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     11  U  F  U  S    C  II  O  A  T  E .        87 

He  was  never,  within  my  knowledge,  a  social  man,  or 
in  the  least  inclined  to  conviviality.  For  dinners  he  cared 
nothing,  though  if  there  was  intellect  present,  he  liked  the 
good  talk.  But  although  I  have  dined  with  him  alone  at 
his  own  house,  in  the  absence  of  his  family,  and  have  seen 
him  again  surrounded  by  his  household,  and  have  met  him 
at  other  dinner  tables,  I  never  saw  in  him  any  of  that  super 
ficial  good  fellowship  of  the  table  which  good  cheer  and 
good  wine  generate.  He  was  not,  indeed,  a  lover  of  good 
living.  He  rarely  indulged  beyond  a  glass  or  two  of  wine, 
though  sometimes  he  would  drink  strong  brandy.  He  said 
to  me  one  day  at  a  dinner,  "  Webster  never  liked  pale 
sherry ;  he  said  it  was  a  weak  invention  of  the  enemy.  He 
went  for  broiun  sherry;  and  I  like  it  better  myself/'  After 
wards  he  observed,  "  Hot  water  and  tea  are  the  best  stimu 
lants  for  a  speaker  ;  they  leave  no  sting  behind.  But  if 
one  must  use  wine,  sherry  is  the  best  of  all  wines/' 

His  humor,  so  notorious,  was  a  purely  intellectual 
humor.  It  was  not  the  overflow,  in  any  degree,  of  animal 
spirits.  It  was  all  the  sparkle  and  bubble  of  a  mind  for 
ever  in  full  play.  Though  he  was  always  saying  something 
laughable  when  at  leisure,  even  at  his  own  table  and  every 
where,  yet  the  fun  was  rather  in  the  intellectual  linking  of 
ideas  very  distant  from  each  other  than  it  was  intrinsic, 
though  he  often  was  truly  witty.  Thus  a  friend,  meeting 
him  one  ten-degrees-below-zero  morning,  in  the  winter, 
said  :  "  How  cold  it  is  Mr.  Choate  !"  "  Well  it  is  not  ab 
solutely  tropical,"  he  replied,  with  a  most  mirthful  em 
phasis.  Mr.'Choate's  body  sometimes  got  tired ;  his  mind, 
so -far  as  I  could  see,  never. 

With  all  his  energy,  he  was  never  a  profane  man.  He 
.would  sometimes  swear  when  no  other  ferocious  word  pre 
sented  itself  to  express  the  instant  passion  of  his  feeling, 


88  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    C  HO  ATE. 

but  usually  lie  had  expletives  in  vast  variety,  for  both 
energy  and  adjuration.  These  were  very  queer.  "Fm 
perfectly  flabbergasted"  was  one  of  his  odd  expressions  ; 
and,  again,  "I'll. eat  all  the  snakes  in  Virginny  if  I  don't 
do  it." 

He  would  talk  himself,  in  conversation,  into  a  great 
heat  in  five  minutes,  without  any  intention  to  do  it.  I 
have  known  him  to  be  lounging  on  his  sofa  in  his  library, 
and  getting  interested  in  what  he  was  talking  about  to  me, 
he  would  get  up  and  come  at  me  with  the  vehemence  of  a 
full  charge  on  the  jury. 

His  bust,  by  Brackett,  shows  the  back  of  his  head,  the 
propelling  and  animal  faculties,  as  not  largely  developed. 
Indeed,  I  always  thought  he  showed  very  little  animal 
energy  in  his  speaking,  except  the  spasmodic,  "muscular 
and  nervous  energy  which  was  the  result  of  his  will.  This 
theory  was  confirmed  to  my  mind  by  seeing  him  often 
make  a  tremendous  shout,  accompanied  with  a  shattering 
spasm  of  physical  emphasis  upon  an  insignificant  sentence 
or  word,  by  the  thought  of  which  his  mind  could  not  have 
been  in  any  degree  enlivened.  This  tended  to  show  that 
the  ardor  was  will,  not  impulse. 

His  forehead  was  not  high,  but  wide  ;  and  at  the  base 
it  was  prominent  and  looked  worn  by  hard  thinking. 
Either  he  had  the  faculty,  which  some  possess,  of  moving 
the  scalp  at  will,  or  else  his  mere  excitement  could  set  his 
hair  on  end  ;  for  in  his  fits  of  forensic  fury,  as  he  spoke, 
his  forehead  seemed  to  lift,  his  temples  to  dilate,  his  hair 
to  stand  higher,  and  he  looked  of  loftier  brow  than  before. 

It  was  a  noticeable  peculiarity  of  his  conformation  that 
his  large  ears  were  set  very  far  back  on  his  head,  and  very 
close  together.  One  of  his  sons-in-law  remarked  to  me, 
that  in  observing  him  he  had  often  thought  if  he  could  run 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  89 

a  knitting  needle  straight  through  from  one  ear  to  the 
other,  it  would  touch  both. 

But  though  his  head  was  rather  narrow  than  otherwise, 
it  got  size  and  strength  from  its  depth.  From  brow  to 
back  it  was  very  long.  I  have  heard  it  compared  in  this 
regard,  by  one  who  knew  the  cast  of  both  heads,  to  that  of 
the  poet  Bryant. 

His  bloodless  cheeks  were  stretched  tensely  on  the  bones, 
as  if  every  film  of  unnecessary  flesh  had  long  since  worn 
away.  His  eyes  were  like  dark  avenues,  at  the  bottom  of 
which  was  a  great  light.  Weary  or  at  rest,  their  dark 
radiance  beamed  unquenchable.  His  chin  was  not  mass 
ive,  but  delicate  ;  and  in  his  moments  of  excited  pathos  it 
quivered  in  unison  with  every  tearful  tone.  His  complex 
ion,  in  which  so  much  impression  of  power  may  reside,  was 
of  Norman,  not  Saxon  stamp.  It  spoke  the  French  fire  ; 
for  in  his  impulse  he  was  hot,  reckless,  dashing  as  the 
Zouave  of  Napoleon.  But  his  fire  was  chiefly  in  blood  : 
his  brain  was  cool.  No  impulse  ever  swept  him  out  of 
sight  of  his  land-marks.  He  could  put  his  finger  on  the 
right  point  in  his  chart  at  any  moment. 

But  although  his  complexion  was  far  from  light,  he 
could  make  it  look  of  an  ashy  paleness.  It  was  said  of  the 
first  Napoleon  that  he  had  the  art  of  withdrawing  all  lus 
ter  from  his  eyes  ;  Choate  had  the  power  of  withdrawing 
all  color  from  his  cheeks.  In  the  climax  of  some  pealing 
passage  he  would  turn  round  from  his  jury,  facing  the 
crowd  within  the  Bar,  with  eyes  blazing  like  a  wild  man 
of  the  desert,  and  his  cheeks  blanched  like  white  marble. 
At  such  moments  he  would  fix  his  glaring  look  on  some 
face  he  happened  to  encounter,  and  for  two  or  three  sec 
onds,  seem  to  pour  a  stream  of  fire  from  his  eyes  into 
theirs.  Mr.  Everett,  in  allusion  doubtless  to  the  pretiu- 


90  REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS    CHOATE. 

natural  intensity  of  this  look,  spoke,  in  his  Faneuil  Hall 
eulogy,  of  the  "  unearthly  glance  of  his  eye."  Light  faces 
exhibit  variety  of  expression  best,  but  dark  faces  are  the 
best  background  for  passion.  Choate' s  face  had  no  great 
variety.  But  those  who  sat  in  front  of  him,  saw  as  he 
spoke  that  his  eyes  grew  blacker,  and  his  cheeks  whiter,  to 
the  close  of  his  climaxes. 

It  was  sometimes  said,  that  though  eminently  hand 
some  in  his  youth,  he  became  homely.  To  this  the  reply 
was,  that  this  might  be  so,  but,  at  any  rate,  he  was  the 
handsomest  homely  man  in  the  world.  Perhaps  this  re 
mark  may  help  to  convey  some  notion  of  his  appearance. 
The  deep-sunken  lines  of  weary  thought  seamed  his  strong 
face  ;  the  prominent  eye-brows,  the  contorted  lips,  thin  in 
themselves,  but  thick  in  their  doubling  folds,  and  the  wasted 
cheeks  ;  these,  while  they  marked  the  cruel  siege  of  time 
upon  the  beauty  of  his  boyhood,  could  not  obliterate  the 
frame-work  of  his  comeliness,  nor  mask  the  fires  of  genius 
within,  which  shone  and  captivated  through  every  instru 
ment  of  expression. 

It  was  in  1848  that  Mr.  Choate  took  me  into  his  office. 
He  had  previously  given  constant  aid  and  direction  both 
in  the  collegiate  and  the  professional  course  of  my  study. 
Mr.  Crowninshield  was  his  office  partner  at  the  time ;  and 
the  offices  being  small,  there  was  some  difficulty  in  taking 
another  student,  there  being  one  in  the  office  already,  and 
I  believe  the  partners  had  once  positively  resolved  never 
to  have  another  student. 

Although  no  student  could  be  of  much  if  any  use  to  him, 
— from  the  character  of  his  business,  which  was  all  worked 
over  by  his  juniors  in  their  cases, — yet  Mr.  Choate  inter 
ested  himself,  with  his  unfailing  kindness,  to  arrange  mat 
ters  with  his  partner,  and  to  adjust  his  office,  to  gratify 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   91 

me  by  making  a  place  there.  I  shall  never  forget  the  morn 
ing  when,  after  a  week  of  delay  and  doubt,  he  sent  for  me  to 
his  house,  and  said,  extending  his  hand,  "  I  was  resolved 
to  accomplish  it :  you  are  a  student  in  my  office  from  this 
hour." 

It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  it  was  the  worst 
office  for  practical  good  to  a  student  at  law  in  all  Boston, 
for  there  was  hardly  any  elementary  business  done  there. 
It  was  mostly  great  business,  and  in  its  ultimate  stages  of 
progress  before  it  was  brought  to  him.  And  as  for  any 
personal  instruction  from  the  chief  himself,  he  had  hardly 
time  to  see  or  speak  to  a  student  from  January  to  Decem 
ber.  From  my  personal  relations  with  him,  I  was  fortu 
nate  in  picking  up  many  scraps  of  advice  from  him  ;  but 
I  imagine  that  generally  his  students  were  sadly  disap 
pointed,  if  they  expected  to  feel  the  sunshine  of  his  in 
structions  upon  their  legal  pathway.  So  far  from  this,  he 
lid  not  know,  sometimes,  who  his  students  were.  And  I 
think  I  learned  more  about  practical,  every-day  Law,  the 
Revised  Statutes,  and  making  Writs,  from  his  young  son- 
in-law,  whom  he  took  into  partnership  while  I  was  in  the 
office,  than  from  all  he  himself  ever  said  to  me.  Choate 
was  for  wide  and  profound  courses  of  study.  He  put  me  to 
reading  the  Roman  Civil  Law,  the  Institutes  of  Justinian, 
the  German  Commentators,  and  heaven  knows  what  else ! 
But  his  youthful  partner  flew  lower,  and  the  humbler  flight 
was  of  much  more  practical  service.  Until  he  came  there 
I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  a  Writ,  or  a  copy  of  the  Revised 
Statutes. 

His  office,  at  first,  was  the  well-known  No.  4  Court 
street — an  Entry  long  famous  for  its  influence  in  the  days 
of  the  old  Whig  party.  It  used  to  be  said  that  all  the 
Governors  and  Senators  of  the  commonwealth  were  made 


92  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

in  a  back  parlor  in  Beacon  street,  and  up  stairs  in  No.  4 
Court  street.  Charles  Simmer  had  his  office  there  on  the 
same  floor  with  Mr.  Choate,  and  George  Hillard,  and  other 
]  nminaries  of  the  dominant  party,  as  they  were  then. 

Mr.  Choate  would  always  shut  the  door  between  his  two 
offices,  shutting  himself  up  in  his  inner  sanctum,  and  there 
untiringly  he  worked,  worked,  worked.  He  had  his  pen 
in  his  hand  always.  It  was  his  weapon  of  warfare.  He 
had  a  high  stand-up  desk,  and  in  front  of  it  a  queer  high 
chair,  made  so  that  a  person  could  slightly  sit  upon  it  while 
yet  standing  up  ;  probably  something  like  the  contrivance 
on  which  Queen  Victoria  half  sits  and  half  leans  upon  the 
royal  reception  days.  Screwed  up  on  to  |his  pyramidal 
chair,  with  his  feet  on  the  ground,  he  was  always  to  be 
seen  pulling  over  sheets  of  manuscript  and  making  notes 
from  law  books.  There  was  a  table  in  the  office,  but  I 
never  once  saw  him  sit  down  to  it.  He  never  sat  down 
anywhere  if  he  could  conveniently  help  it.  He  always 
stood  up  or  lay  down.  Accordingly,  he  was  much  oftener 
on  the  sofa  in  his  office,  than  in  a  chair.  I  believe  this 
was  on  account  of  some  peculiar  physical  effect  which  long 
sitting  produced  upon  him.  When  ^he  was  not  in  court 
trying  a  case,  he  was  a  fixture  at  his  desk  with  pigeon 
holes  full  of  papers  in  front  of  it,  and  a  broad  background 
of  the  books  in  buff  behind  him.  Nothing  distracted  him 
from  these  labors,  but  business,  or  a  talk  about  books,  or 
some  philosophical  or  historic  theme.  Start  him  on  any 
such  topic,  and,  if  not  extremely  busy,  he  would  turn  right 
round  from  his  law,  pen  in  hand,  and  commence  talking 
on  it  with  as  much  fullness  and  readiness  as  if  he  had  been 
elaborating  it  for  a  week. 

I  recollect  particularly,  one  afternoon,  saying  some 
thing  to  him  upon  Alexander  the  Great.  He  immediately 


BEMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.      ,       93 

launched  out  into  a  brilliant  disquisition  upon  the  Man  of 
Macedon  ;  describing  the  magnitude  of  his  ideas,  his  Gre 
cian  nationality,  his  Asiatic  scheme  of  empire,  his  inevit 
able  destiny,  Grote's  history,  etc.,  in  a  manner  erudite  and 
interesting  enough  for  a  crammed,  lecture  in  a  popular  his 
torical  course. 

If  he  ever  paused  to  say  any  thing  not  on  business  or 
books,  it  was  something  witty,  or  mirthful.  Nothing  oc 
curred,  no  odd  person  came  in,  no  peculiar  thing  was  said, 
that  the  laugh  did  not  echo  after  it  from  some  curious  ob 
servation  of  Mr.  Choate  upon  it. 

Sometimes  when  nobody  said  any  thing  suggestive  of  a 
joke,  he  would  perpetrate  something  on  his  own  account. 
One  day  he  came  stalking  out  of  his  inner  office  into  the 
outer  one,  and,  looking  across  the  street,  his  eye  caught 
sight  of  a  bird-fancier's  establishment  opposite.  "  Why," 
said  he,  "  I  did  n't  know  we  were  flanked  by  nightingale's 
nests."  Any  student  of  his  was  always  delighted  to  do 
any  thing  in  his  power  for  him.  In  a  hot  summer's  day  I 
remember  running  all  over  Court  street  and  the  lawyers' 
quarters,  with  messages,  to  get  him  ready  to  go  to  New 
York  that  afternoon.  And  he  made  me  feel  more  than  re 
paid  by  the  kindly  word  of  thanks  he  expressed,  not  in  the 
ordinary  formal  way,  but  by  saying,  as  he  rubbed  his  tan 
gled  head,  "  You  are  a  great  comfort  to  me." 

I  never  remember  seeing  him  collect  any  money,  or 
make  any  charges  in  any  books.  Indeed,  I  never  saw  any 
account  books  in  his  office.  He  himself  never  seemed  to 
have  any  money.  If  he  wanted  any,  he  would  get  me  to 
draw  a  check  for  him,  even  for  five  dollars,  and  he  signed 
it.  If  he  drew  the  check  himself,  he  made  sad  work  of  it. 
It  used  to  be  said  round  the  Entry,  that  when  he  had  to  go 
to  Washington  to  argue  cases,  or  to  Congress,  he  often  was 


94     REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

obliged  to  ransack  the  Entry  to  find  some  one  with  money 
to  lend  him  to  go  on  with.  Unlike  some  others  of  the 
fraternity  of  great  men,  however,  he  very  often  paid  what 
he  borrowed. 

His  accounts  of  who  owed  him  and  how  much,  he 
must  have  chiefly  carried  in  his  head.  His  office  part 
ner  could  not  have  known  them,  and  there  was  not 
seen  there  any  book  of  original  entries.  One  of  his 
old  students  of  former  years,  however,  used  to  come 
in  to  us  and  tell  the  story  of  a  traditionary  set  of 
books  which  Choate  commenced  with  the  intention  of 
keeping  them  by  double  entry.  So,  on  the  first  day  he 
opened  them,  he  had  occasion  to  send  out  for  a  gallon 
of  oil — it  was  before  gas  days  ;  accordingly  he  entered 
in  the  bulky  volume,  "  Office  debtor  one  gallon  of  oil/' 
so  much.  A  few  days  after,  an  old  client  came  in  and 
asked  for  his  bill.  Choate  told  him  he  really  was  very 
busy  and  if  he'd  call  again  in  a  week  he'd  have  it  ready  for 
him.  In  a  week  he  called  again  and  demanded  his  bill. 
"0,  yes/'  said  Choate,  "I  really, — you  must  pardon  me, 
—but  I've  not  had  time  to  draw  it  off ;  but  you  may  pay 
whatever  you  think  right."  This  did  not  suit  the  client, 
who  said  he'd  call  once  more  ;  and  so  he  did  a  fortnight 
after.  This  time  Choate  was  in  despair.  "  Well  there," 
said  he,  "  take  the  Books  and  just  draw  off  a  minute  of  the 
account  yourself."  The  worthy  man  took  the  Book,  de 
spairing  of  any  other  information,  opened  it,  and  there  at 
the  top  of  the  page,  in  staring  characters  of  vast  size  to 
make  them  legible,  was  the  entry,  "Office  debtor  one  gallon 
of  oil," — standing  as  lonely  on  the  page  as  its  author  in  his 
life.  He  never  asked  for  his  bill  again,  but  paid  what 
he  thought  fair,  and  asked  for  a  receipt  in  full,  which  Mr. 
Choate  promised  to  have  ready  for  him,  next  time  he  called. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.      95 

Mr.  Choate  very  often,  however,  made  a  sudden  foray 
and  raid  upon  his  clients  as  he  happened  to  recollect  them, 
if  he  found  himself  unexpectedly  in  want  of  money.  And 
woe  be  to  any  unfortunate  man  then,  who  had  a  heavy  case 
actually  on  trial.  He  had  to  pay  for  all  the  sins  of  omis 
sion  of  his  predecessor  clients  for  many  weeks. 

There  was  a  great  joke  wandering  round  State  street  for 
a  long  time,  in  the  shape  of  a  promissory  note  payable  on 
detnand,  drawn  by  Webster  and  endorsed  by  Choate.  It 
was  shaved  again  and  again  at  the  most  fluctuating  rates. 

All  this  was  his  way  of  doing  things  in  '47,  and  from 
that  time  till  he  took  in  his  son-in-law  as  Partner.  Then 
all  was  changed.  And  I  used  to  console  myself  with  the 
reflection,  that  now  he  would  be  fully  able  to  obtain  and 
enjoy  a  well  deserved  competence. 

It  was,  however,  a  singular  paradox  that  his  scale  of 
charges  in  his  mind,  his  ideal  of  a  professional  account,  was 
rather  high  than  low.  If  he  named  any  charge,  he  named 
a  pretty  fair,  though  never  extravagant  one.  I  think  as  he 
grew  older,  he  was  somewhat  talked  into  putting  a  proper 
estimate  on  his  own  services.  Sometimes  his  want  of  dis 
crimination  in  this  regard  operated  hardly.  One  day,  a 
poor  fellow  from  Charlestown,  who  had  a  snug  trifle  accu 
mulated  by  daily  labor,  came  in  with  his  Tax  Bill,  "to 
consult  Eufus  Choate"  as  to  whether  it  was  rightly  levied 
or  not.  Choate  turned  him  over  to  me,  at  the  same  time 
vaguely  indicating  the  principle  and  authority  which  must 
be  looked  up.  Occupied  in  trying  a  large  case,  he  did  not 
come  back  to  the  office  for  two  or  three  days.  Meantime, 
I  had  brooded  laboriously  over  this  almost  the  first  profes 
sional  matter  ever  entrusted  to  my  hands.  The  "  opinion 
of  Bufus  Choate"  was  elaborately  prepared  by  me,  and 
when  at  last  he  did  come  back  to  his  office,  I  presented  it  to 


96  REMINISCENCES    OF    KUFUS    CHOATE. 

him  for  his  scrutiny  and  signature.  He  looked  it  over,  and 
scrawled  his  autograph  at  the  bottom.  "What  shall  I  tell 
him  is  your  charge,  Mr.  Choate"  was  my  next  inquiry. 
"Well,"  said  he,  "I  think  we  ought  to  have  $25  for  that, 
don't  you  ?"  Of  course  I  acquiesced,  though  it  seemed  to 
me  then  a  fabulous  sum  on  .so  trifling  a  matter,  for  the 
whole  Tax  Bill  was  only  $10.  When  the  client  came,  I 
presented  him  the  "opinion/'  and  told  him  the  charge. 
"Twenty-five  dollars  !"  he  exclaimed,  "why  I  think  that's 
too  much  !  I  haven't  got  but  $15  ready  money  in  the 
world."  Of  course  he  was  let  off  on  payment  of  the  $15, 
but  not  without  much  misgiving  on  my  part,  lest  the  mas 
ter  of  the  office  would  be  displeased.  When  Mr.  C.  came 
in,  I  hastened  to  tell  him  that  I  had  given  the  Charles- 
town  man  his  opinion  ;  and  then  I  waited  anxiously  for 
what,  in  my  ignorance  of  him,  I  supposed  would  be  his 
inevitable  question,  "  Did  you  give  him  the  Bill  ?"  But 
no  such  question  came,  or  would  have  come  to  the  day  of 
judgment.  So,  in  a  moment,  during  which  the  whole  sub 
ject  seemed  to  pass  away  from  his  mind,  I  ventured  tim 
idly  to  suggest  that  I  couldn't  collect  the  Bill.  "  Ah  !" 
was  the  only  reply.  "No,"  said  I,  "the  man  said  he  hadn't 
got  but  $15  in  the  world,  and  he  paid  that."  "  Oh,"  said 
Choate,  with  a  rich  smile  mantling  over  the  lower  part  of 
his  face  "  you  took  all  he  had,  did  you  ?  Well,  I've  noth 
ing  to  say  to  that — that's  strictly  professional!'  It  need 
hardly  be  added  that  he  himself  neither  saw  nor  asked  for 
a  dollar  of  the  money.  It  was  divided  between  the  students 
in  the  office. 

In  the  last  year  of  his  life,  when  a  cause  in  Dedham 
had  been  dismissed,  he  argued  a  motion  for  allowing  his 
legal  costs.  This  was  resisted,  on  the  ground  that  the 
court  had  no  longer  any  jurisdiction  over  the  case  or  any 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  97 

thing  connected  with  it.  Choate,  in  reply,  speaking  very 
slowly,  said,  "  The  construction  of  my  brother  can  not 
prevail.  We  must  have  our  costs  now  or  never.  If  we 
should  apply  to  the  court  to  be  allowed  them  before  the 
iinal  adjudication,  your  honor  would  say  to  us,  paternally r, 
'  Wait  till  your  cause  is  done  !'  The  truth  is,  we  lawyers 
have,  in  the  progress  of  the  case,  a  few  fees,  a  little  re 
freshment  by  the  way,  but  we  wait  till  all  is  over  for  the 
full  banquet."  The  court  granted  his  motion. 

Although  his  office  was  littered  with  books,  papers, 
blanks,  speeches  and  antique  debris  of  every  thing  profes 
sional,  yet  he  had  a  decided  aversion  to  any  thing  bare 
or  hard-looking  in  or  about  it.  A  small  place  in  the  wall 
was  uncovered  by  the  removal  of  a  book-case.  He  took 
pains  carefully  to  hang  up  a  map  there  to  hide  its  naked 
ness.  The  old  carpet,  which  had  probably  not  been 
changed  since  he  came  to  Boston,  now  began  to  give  signs, 
too  palpable  for  misconstruction,  of  decay.  He  asked  me 
to  "  indicate  what  sort  of  one  I  preferred."  I  suggested 
an  oil-cloth  carpet  of  pretty  pattern.  "  Oh  no,"  said  he, 
"it's  too  cold  a  material.  I'd  rather  walk  on  marble  than 
oil-cloth."  The  discussion  ended,  I  believe,  by  his  leaving 
the  whole  matter  to  the  colored  woman  who  cleaned  the 
office,  and  a  glaring  red  carpet  soon  stared  us  in  the  face 
as  the  result.  However,  it  was  thick  and  felt  warm,  and 
looked  coarsely  rich,  and  he  was  apparently  entirely  satis 
fied.  But  observing  that  a  place  hidden  in  a  corner  was 
uncovered  by  carpeting,  he  was  not  satisfied  till  it  was 
covered. 

When  he  could  do  so  without  displeasing  anybody 
among  the  various  attaches  of  his  office,  he  would  shut 
himself  up  alone  in  his  inner  room.  He  always  preferred 
to  be  thus  alone.  But  if  a  student  happened  to  be  in 


98  REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE. 

there,  it  must  be  a  very  stringent  necessity  that  could  drive 
him  to  intimate,  personally,  his  desire  for  his  exit. 

It  was  very  amusing  sometimes  to  hear  him  converse 
with  strangers  who  brought  new  cases  to  him.  His  lan 
guage  of  advice  was  often  so  uncommon.  Once,  as  he  was 
lying  on  a  sofa,  I  heard  him  dismiss  a  worthy  mechanic, 
who  had  brought  a  trifling  matter  to  him,  with  the  direc 
tion,  "  Well,  go  home  now,  and  reconnoiter  the  whole 
scene,  the  persons  and  all,  and  come  and  tell  me  the  re 
sult  of  your  observation."  The  good  man  went  home,  but 
whether  he  ever  knew  how  to  "  reconnoiter  or  not  we  never 
heard. 

Mr.  Choate  was  stubbornly  regular  at  his  office  when 
not  in  court.  No  weather  and  no  sickness  but  the  most 
severe  sick  headaches  kept  him  away.  It  was  always  a 
dull  day  with  us  in  his  office  when  he  did  not  come.  He 
seemed,  although  he  said  so  little,  to  bring  so  much  light 
and  glory,  and  history  with  him  when  his  dark  face  and 
bright  smile  looked  cheeringly  down  upon  us  over  that 
high  yellow  desk.  Even  if  he  was  too  unwell  to  be  up,  he 
would  come  to  the  office  and  would  lie  on  his  sofa  and  ad 
vise  with  clients. 

One  morning,  he  came  up  from  Plymouth,  where  he  had 
been  making  a  political  speech,  and  entered  the  office,  look 
ing  as  if  just  up  from  his  grave  instead  of  his  bed.  He  threw 
himself  on  his  sofa,  and  lay  there  studying  and  talking  to 
clients  all  the  morning.  I  asked  him  IIOAV  he  got  along  in 
his  speech.  "  Got  along  ?"  said  he  ;  "  I  didn't  get  along 
at  all.  I  told  'em  all  I  knew,  for  more  than  an  hour,  and 
I  might  as  well  have  talked  to  the  dead." 

Daniel  Webster  used  to  come  into  the  office  sometimes 
to  see  and  consult  with  Choate.  He  would  come  stalking 
in  heavily,  like  a  great  three-decker  surging  into  harbor. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.      99 

It  was  very  interesting  to  see  them  meet  thus  in  an  office. 
Choate  told  me,  more  than  once,  he  thought  Webster  the 
greatest  lawyer  in  the  world. 

He  used  to  get  up  sudden  enthusiasms  for  various  au 
thors,  and  sets  of  authors.  I  could  always  tell  by  his  acci 
dental  remarks  during  a  day  what  course  his  last  literary 
impulse  had  taken.  One  day  he  came  down  to  the  office 
full  of  Blackwood's  Magazine.  Said  he,  "  There's  a  capital 
article  in  this  number,  i  Ancient  and  Modern  Oratory/ 
It's  got  every  thing  in  it.  It's  all  there."  A  little  book 
on  Khetoric,by  Prof.  H,  N.  Day,  of  Ohio,  I  also  recall  as  excit 
ing  him  to  study  over  that  subject  again  with  fresh  life. 
These  books  he  at  once  offered  to  lend  me  ;  "  but,"  said 
he,  "  return  them  when  you  are  done."  His  books  were 
the  only  things  he  guarded  with  care.  In  the  midst  of  all 
,his  avocations,  if  a  book  borrowed  from  his  private  library 
was  not  returned,  he  would  remember  it,  and  remind  the 
borrower  of  it  months  after  it  had  been  taken.  He  knew, 
and  valued  with  a  special  interest,  each  individual  book 
among  his  thousands.  Meeting  him  one  day  casually  in 
the  street,  he  said,  "  I've  just  got  a  fine  edition  of  Boling- 
broke's  works  from  England.  My  old  set  of  him  I  picked 
up  from  various  editions.  It's  too  good  to  be  lost,  and  I'm 
going  to  give  it  to  you  ;"  and  then  he  added,  "  I  might 
give  it  to  Rufus  (his  son),  but  I  don't  believe  the  little 
devil  would  prize  it  much/'  Accordingly  he  remembered 
to  send  it,  with  an  indescribable  scrawl  on  the  fly-leaves, 
which  I  have  always  presumed  was  the  name  of  the  giver 
and  receiver  of  the  volumes. 

One  i  of  his  great  recreations  was,  on  Saturday  after 
noon,  when  the  courts  were  all  silent,  to  lounge  into  Burn- 
ham's  famous  antique  bookstore,  and  spend  hours  in  glanc 
ing  over  and  glancing  through  the  multitudinous  seas  of 


100     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

boo£s  imprisoned  there.  This  habit  was  not  confined  to 
Boston  in  its  exercise.  A  well-known  dealer  in  old  books 
in  New  York  has  said  since  Mr.  Choate's  death  :  "  The 
great  lawyer  was  accustomed,  when  he  visited  New  York, 
to  spend  hours  among  my  books."  One  occasion  he  particu 
larly  recalls  thus  :  "  About  ten  years  ago,  while  on  a  visit 
or  passing  through  this  city,  Mr.  Choate  called  at  my  store 
about  ten  o'clock,  A.  M.,  and  introduced  himself  as  a  lover 
of  books  and  an  occasional  buyer,  and  then  desired  me  to 
show  him  where  the  metaphysics,  the  Greek  and  Latin 
classics,  stood.  He  immediately  commenced  his  researches 
with  great  apparent  eagerness,  nor  did  he  quit  his  toil  till 
he  was  compelled  to  do  so  by  the  store  being  shut  up  ;  thus 
having  been  over  nine  hours  on  a  stretch  without  drink  or 
food. 

"  He  remarked  that  he  had  quite  exhausted  himself, 
mentally  as  well  as  bodily.  He  had  been  greatly  inter 
ested,  as  well  as  excited,  at  what  he  had  seen  ;  '  for/  con 
tinued  he,  f  I  have  discovered  many  books  that  I  have  never 
seen  before,  and  seen  those  that  I  never  heard  of;  but, 
above  all,  I  have  been  more  than  overjoyed  at  discovering 
in  your  collection  a  copy  of  the  Greek  bishop's  famous  com 
mentary  on  the  writings  of  Homer,  in  seven  volumes,  quarto 
— a  work  that  I  have  long  had  an  intense  desire  to  possess/ 
He  afterwards  purchased  the  precious  volumes.  I  had  the 
seven  volumes  bound  in  three,  in  handsome  and  appropri 
ate  style.  These  works,  no  doubt,  still  grace  his  library. 

"  He  was  very  anxious  to  procure  an  old  school-book, 
which  had  been  a  favorite  with  him  when  a  boy.  It  was 
a  collection  of  pieces  by  the  best  English  authors,  the  title 
of  which  now  I  have  forgotten.  l  The  book/  said  he,  '  was 
put  into  my  hands  by  my  worthy  mother,  and  I  must  con 
fess  the  frequent  perusal  of  it  in  early  years  has  had  much 


REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.          101 

influence  over  me  ever  since  ;  for  the  reading  and  reread 
ing  of  these  pieces  was  to  me  a  labor  of  love  and  devotionj 
Ever  since,  I  have  tried  to  procure  a  copy  of  tins  book  but 
never  succeeded/ 

"  The  Greek  bishop's  commentary  alluded  to  was  that 
of  Eustatius  (Archbishop  of  Thessalonica),  who  was  born 
in  the  twelfth  century,  at  Constantinople.  He  was  the  au 
thor  of  the  well-known  voluminous  commentary  on  Homer; 
written  in  the  same  language  as  the  Iliad.  His  comment 
aries  were  first  printed  at  Kome,  1550.,  in  two  volumes, 
folio.  Besides  these  commentaries,  he  was  the  author  of 
several  other  critical  works." 

Mr.  Choate  loved  to  read  writers  of  long,  swelling, 
stately  sentiments,  and  of  ardency.  De  Quincy  he  often 
spoke  of.  But,  he  said,  he  was  something  of  an  old  Betty. 
Of  the  young  Scotch  writer,  Bayne,  whose  essays  had  re 
cently  been  brought  out  in  Boston,  he  remarked  to  me.  "  I 
read  every  word  of  Baync." 

"  Literature,"  he  said  again  to  me,  "  is  full  of  enthusiasm  ; 
life  is  not."  "  Ah  !"  said  he  once,  in  a  speech  before  a  Legis 
lative  committee  at  the  State  House,  "  Pardon  my  emotion, 
Mr.  Chairman — I  was  thinking  of  the  clays  of  my  youth." 

Like  Fisher  Ames,  he  loved  to  read  the  Bible  in  his 
roung  days  and  in  his  manhood.  He  attended  to  it  care 
fully  at  church,  and  quoted  from  it  constantly  in  speaking. 
He  was  never  tired  of  reading  the  English  orators,  and 
talking  about  them.  Brougham,  he  said,  was  not  a  real 
orator.  Grattan  he  always  spoke  of  with  enthusiasm. 
His  speech  commencing,  "At  length  I  address  a  new 
country!"  he  thought  was  his  finest.  It  was  delivered 
after  the  great  concessions  made  to  Ireland  by  England 
in  the  day  of  "  The  Irish  volunteers,"  which  Grattan  af 
firmed  emancipated  Ireland. 


102          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

Mr.  Choate  said,  "  Some  one  should  write  a  History  of 
the  Ancient  .Orators.  There  is  no  book  in  all  my  library 
where  I  can  find  all  there  is  extant  about  any  ancient  Ora 
tor/'  lie  earnestly  advised  the  author  to  undertake  it.  In 
pursuance  of  the  idea,  an  article  on  "  Hortensius"  appeared 
in  a  Eeview  as  a  beginning.  He  spoke  with  enthusiasm  of 
the  satisfaction  it  gave  him;  saying  it  was  a  new  revelation 
to  him,  for  he  never  knew  Hortensius  before. 

He  was  a  thorough  reader  of  the  daily  newspapers,  be 
sides  all  his  mass  of  legal  and  literary  studies.  In  a  mo 
ment's  glance  he  would  seem  to  take  in  all  the  salient  points 
of  the  paper  ;  and  afterwards  allusions  to  its  incidents 
would  be  very  likely  to  appear  in  his  speeches.  The  news 
paper  topics  of  trifling  but  instant  interest  were  quite  as 
much  relied  on  by  him,  in  his  argumentative  illustration, 
as  those  of  erudition  and  magnificence. 

All  his  Law  seemed  to  be  at  his  instant  and  exact  com 
mand.  A  poor  fellow  cut  up  by  a  railroad  collision  hob 
bled  in  one  morning,  to  sue  the  Company.  Choate  said 
instantly,  "  The  poor  man  can't  recover.  It  has  been  re 
cently  decided  that  the  employee,  situated  as  this  man  was, 
has  no  remedy  against  his  employer.  Turn  to  such  a 
volume  of  the  Reports  and  you'll  find  it."  I  looked,  and 
there  it  was  exactly  as  he  said. 

After  being  admitted  to  the  Bar,  he  often  gave  me  ad 
vice  and  assistance  on  law  points.  Happening  to  mention 
to  him  the  first  case  I  ever  ventured  to  carry  up  from  the 
Common  Pleas  on  "  exceptions"  to  the  Supreme  Court,  he 
immediately  replied,  "  Why  you  ought  to  get  that  case.  I 
see  the  point.  But  the  trouble  will  be  to  make  them  (the 
Judges)  see  it.  But  your  law  is  clearly  right." 

The  case  had  been  ruled  out  of  Court  twice  already, 
and  it  was  therefore  the  more  gratifying  to  hear  his  prompt 


REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.       103 

endorsement.  When  it  finally  came  up  for  argument  in  the 
Supreme  Court,  Mr.  Choate's  extempore  view  of  the  case  was 
ratified.     For  the  exceptions  were  sustained,  and  the  case 
ordered  to  be  heard  again.    I  remember  another,  a  criminal 
case,  where  he  exhibited  the  same  quick  mastery  of  law  in 
conversation.     The  case  was  an  indictment  for  putting  the 
hand  into  a  pocket  with  intent  to  steal.     It  fell  to  me,  ac 
cidentally,  owing  to  the  sickness  of  another  lawyer.     The 
point  was  taken,  that  the  government  must  show  there  was 
something  in  the  pocket,  before  they  could  convict ;  for 
clearly  it  was  not  the  defendant's  intention  to  steal,  if  he 
found   nothing  in  the  pocket.     Pending  the  decision    of 
this  point  the  Court  adjourned  for  the  day  ;  and  I  hurried 
to  Mr.  Choate  to  ask  his  opinion.     He  thought  it  over  for 
a  moment  or  two  and  then  said,   "  I  don't  think  it  will 
stand/'     He  then  discussed  it  pro  and  con.  a  few  minutes, 
but  still  concluded  "  it  won't  stand."     Going  back  to  my 
office  and  hunting  for  an  "authority"  I  came  upon  one  re 
cently  decided  and  published  in  one  of  the  very  last  volumes 
of  the  Reports  ;  it  precisely  overruled  the  very  point  relied 
upon. 

Here  Mr.  Choate  did  not  know  of  the  decision,  but  his 
legal  analogies  were  so  accurate  in  his  mind,  that  without 
"authority,"  he  disposed  of  a  point  which  certainly  seemed 
very  plausible. 

It  was  very  difficult  for  Mr.  Choate  ever  to  say  "  no"  to 
anybody.  He  always  said  "yes,"  to  all  who  came.  I  do 
not  doubt  he  personally  intended  to  do  every  thing  he  said 
he  would.  But  the  difference  between  the  things  he  wanted 
to  do  and  those  he  did  not  want  to  do,  was  not  in  what  he 
said  about  them  ;  for  he  said  exactly  the  same  things  about 
both  ;  but  it  was,  that  somehow  it  happened  that  the  lat 
ter  things  wouldn't  get  done.  There  was  the  same  cordial- 


104      REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

ity  in  talking  about  them,  the  same  apparent  interested 
intention  to  do  them  ;  but  the  latter  class  of  things  never 
were  done,  nevertheless.  This  involved  him  in  a  good  deal 
of  trouble  about  engagements,  cases,  and  matters  relied 
upon  to  ba  finished. 

It  was  not  this  facility  of  acquiescence,  however,  merely, 

/    but  a  higher-  and  kinder  motive  which  often  led  him  to 

take  cases  of  poor  and  oppressed  people  whose  pay  was 

/      very  slim,  when  he  might  have  had  higher  pay  from  others, 

/       for  less  exigent  cases. 

I  think  he  had  a  good  deal  of  taste  for  the  drama.  He 
took  a  refined  delight  in  hearing  Fanny  Kemble's  Head 
ings.  He  promised  me  he  would  go  to  the  Boston  Theater 
to  see  Edwin  Booth's  acting  ;  and  he  was  often  observed 
prowling  around  the  back  seats  of  the  Museum  to  laugh  at 
William  Warren's  irresistible  fun. 

He  was  solicitous  about  where  and  how  he  should 
speak,  when  the  occasion  was  other  than  in  Court.  In 
Court  he  cared  no  tiling  about  the  arrangement.  But  he 
more  than  once  sent  for  me  on  other  occasions,  as  a  friendly 
observer,  to  advise  with  him  about  what  Hall  he  should  speak 
in,  and  other  particulars.  He  knew  as  well  as  I  did,  that 
his  rich  voice  was  not  ringing  and  resonant ;  and  therefore 
he  never  went  into  the  great  Music  Hall  for  his  addresses. 
He  had  a  singular  reluctance  apparently,  to  have  any 
of  his  students  or  friends  go  to  hear  him  speak.  In  the 
first  days  of  my  experience  of  him  I  suffered  from  ignor 
ance  of  this  trait.  For  when_  he  was^exjgected^^o  speak 
before  the  Whig  Convention  at  "Worcester,  I  asked  him  if 
he  was  going  to  speak,  and  where.  "  Oh,  no,"  he  replied. 
"  I  shall  either  say  nothing  or  a  mere  remark  or  two.  I'm 
not  going  to  make  any  speech."  Accordingly  I  did  not  go 
up  to  Worcester,  and  lost  one  of  his  most  fervid  and  inter- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.      105 

esting  efforts ;  a  speech  of  which  it  was  said  at  the  time; 
L— that  in  the  frenzied  energy  of  his  delivery,  he  literally  split 
his  coat  in  two  in  the  back,  from  collar  to  waistband.  This 
peculiar  reluctance  to  promote  anybody's  wish  to  hear 
him,  I  think  proceeded  from  unaffected  modesty  as  to  his 
own  performance.  He  was  always  apprehensive  before 
hand  as  to  how  he  was  "  going  to  get  along"  in  any  effort. 

The  prince  of  orators,  Cicero,  said  long  ago,  'that  he 
never  spoke  without  first  trembling,  until  his  own  voice  re 
assured  him.  Probably,  this  preliminary  nervousness  in 
really  great  orators  is  the  pledge,  as  well  as  prelude,  of 
their  success.  Mr.  Choate,  besides  this  special  anxiety, 
had  a  uniformly  humble  opinion  of  his  own  eloquence.  If 
he  could  avoid  it,  he  would  not  put  himself  in  competition 
on  the  same  stage,  with  many  a  reigning  orator  whom  the 
world  thought  decidedly  inferior  to  him. 

He  might  be  pardoned  for  a  modest  hesitancy  to  speak 
on  the  same  occasions  with  Mr.  Everett.  But  it  certainly 
was  more  than  suspected  at  the  time,  that  the  sickness 
which  caused  his  absence  from  the  first  Webster  birthday 
banquet,  in  Boston,  was  promoted  by  the  knowledge  that 
Edward  Everett  was  to  be  there  in  full  force.  Yet  their 
styles  of  address  were  so  different,  that  each  would  have 
been  a  new  and  an  equal  treat. 

When  one  of  his  great  cases  in  court  was  ready  for  ar 
gument,  I  had  ensconced  myself  in  a  snug  corner  ;  with 
infinite  difficulty,  as  the  crowd  was  great.  Just  before  he 
rose  to  speak,  he  spied  me  out  ;  beckoning  me  to  him,  he 
sent  me  to  the  office  for  a  law-book.  I  knew  if  I  lost  the 
seat,  it  could  never  be  gained  again,  and  I  felt  sure  that 
his  main  object  was  not  so  much  the  book  as  to  dispense 
with  an  auditor.  So  trusting  that  in  the  heat  of  the  argu 
ment,  which  he  was  just  rising  to  open,  he  would  forget  all 


106   REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

about  the  book  and  me,  I  sat  still  and  heard  him  till  the 
intermission.  Then,  as  I  expected,  he  did  not  allude  to 
the  book  again,  and  my  opinion  as  to  the  motive  of  his 
sending  for  it  was  confirmed. 

Celebrated  as  he  was  at  twenty- one,  and  never  sub- 
mitting  to  any  probation  of  unappreciated  struggle,  it  was, 
indeed,  surprising  that  he  should  have  been  so  free  from  all 
vanity.  He  had  no  personal  or  intellectual  fopperies  what 
ever.  The  vanities  of  Erskine  and  Pinkney  were  to  him 
incomprehensible.  I  do  not  believe  he  ever  said  a  single 
word  which  could  tend  directly  or  indirectly  to  his  own 
laudation.  Of  self-seeking  or  self-praise,  he  was  as  inno 
cent  as  a  baby. 

His  modest  appreciation  of  his  own  eloquence  did  not 
lead  him  to  belittle  that  of  others.  He  gave  them  hearty 
praise.  The  eloquence  of  Kossuth  he  often  expressed  un 
bounded  admiration  for.  That  passage  in  which  the  Mag 
yar  paused  in  his  speech,  in  England, — "Pardon  me,  I 
thought  I  saw  the  thousands  of  my  countrymen  pass  again 
in  review  before  me,  and  heard  them  shout  again  i  Liberty 
or  death' " — this  passage  he  cordially  praised  as  a  great 
burst  of  eloquence. 

He  could  bear  complacently  to  hear  Henry  Clay's  elo 
quence  praised,  even  though  it  was  in  some  degree  at  the 
expense  of  his  own. 

Young  Burlingame,  he  said,  has  an  "  eloquent  utter 
ance." 

The  article  which  I  wrote  upon  his  Eloquence,  and  which 
is  in  this  book,  was  thought  by  some  of  his  mistaken  friends 
to  disparage  him,  because  it  pronounced  him  not  a  "  nat 
ural  orator."  He  himself,  however,  hastened  to  assure  me, 
in  a  note  which  I  still  have,  that  he  considered  it  "  kind, 
friendly  and  fully  appreciative." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   107 

It  is  unfortunate  for  his  posthumous  fame  that  his  hand 
writing  was  so  hieroglyphical.  A  man  might  puzzle  out  the 
autograph  of  the  Egyptians  on  the  face  of  the  Pyramids 
almost  as  easily  as  Choate's  Coptic  caligraphy.  His  stu 
dents  studied  it  like  any  other  dead  language.  While  ac 
tually  in  his  office  and  with  him,  I  had  puzzled  out  his 
alphabet  sufficiently  to  read  a  good  deal  of  him,  but  never 
quite  to  read  all.  And  after  leaving  him,  the  knowledge 
soon  escaped  so  that  now  his  MS.  is  again  a  sealed  book 
to  me.  When  his  letters  used  to  come  from  Europe,  they 
would  have  to  lie  by  and  be  referred  to  at  intervals  of  time 
for  days  before  I  could  grasp  their  full  sense  and  words  ; 
and  then  it  would  often  be  by  running  the  eye  along  the 
whole  line  and  taking  it  in  by  a  sort  of  guess-work  and 
flash,  rather  than  spelling  it  out  accurately. 

When  the  time  of  office  study  was  up,  he  made  the 
motion  in  the  Supreme  Court  for  my  admission  to  the  bar, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  how  nervous  he  was  about  that 
simple  motion.  It  was  a  little  out  of  his  ordinary  beat, 
and  he  seemed  quite  flustered  as  he  made  the  motion  in 
open  court  and  stated  the  particulars  to  the  shaggy-look 
ing  Chief  Justice.  After  it  was  done,  however,  he  encour 
aged  my  spirits  and  inaugurated  the  hopes  of  a  new-made 
attorney,  by  telling  me,  "  You  need  not  fear  for  business. 
There's  always  room  for  one  more  !" 

When,  at  last,  his  office  was  finally  left,  there  mingled 
with  the  pleasure  of  entering  upon  scenes  of  real  life  much 
genuine  pain  at  losing  the  constant  presence  of  this  de 
lightful  man.  His  greatness  and  his  sweetness  were  an 
inspiration  to  all  who  saw  him  nearly. 

A  friend,  who  also  was  a  student  in  Mr.  Choate's  office, 
but  ten  years  before  my  time  there,  has  kindly  sent  me  the 


108      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E . 

following  reminiscences  of  his  student  life  with  him.  It 
differs  somewhat  from  my  own  later  observation  of  him, 
especially  as  respects  his  discrimination  in  cases  and  fees. 
But  it  is  another  and  interesting  view  of  him,  taken  in  the 
same  office,  at  the  period  of  his  first  coming  to  Boston. 


REMINISCENCES   OF   ANOTHER   STUDENT. 

The  first  time  I  saw  and  heard  Mr.  Choate  was  at  An- 
dover  in  the  spring  of  1835.  He  was  then  living  in  Salem, 
with  something  of  a  Congressional  reputation,  and  great 
local  celebrity  as  a  lawyer  and  advocate  at  the  Essex  bar. 

Novelties  were  then  rare  in  Andover,  and  all  the  stu 
dents  were  on  the  qui  vive  to  see  and  hear  the  legal  celebri 
ties  of  old  Essex. 

The  case  was  before  three  referees,  I  think,  and  was 
about  some  machinery,  of  little  general  interest  except  to 
the  parties.  Hon.  Leverett  Saltonstall  was  his  opponent, 
and  a  fine  lawyer  and  gentleman  of  the  old  school.  I  well 
remember  my  first  impressions  of  these  two  intellectual 
antagonists.  Choate,  while  preparing  for  his  argument, 
was  walking  across  the  hall,  clad  in  his  favorite  brown  sur- 
tout — ever  and  anon  thrusting  his  hands  through  his  raven 
curls,  not  then  tinged  with  gray. 

Saltonstall  seemed  to  me  out  of  temper,  and  irritable  ; 
although  his  personal  appearance  was  highly  dignified  and 
venerable,  and  his  arguments  and  address  able  and  artistic. 

When  opposed  to  Choate,  I  have  heard  that  Saltonstall 
was  often  nervous,  excited,  almost  petulant ;  especially  be 
fore  the  Twelve,  with  whom  his  great  compeer  was  always 
omnipotent. 

Saltonstall  was  like  the  Austrian  general  of  the  old 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE.          109 

school,  the  perfect  soldier  ;  Choatc,  in  his  strategy  and  at 
tack,  had  the  boldness,  the  independence,  and  the  impetu 
osity  of  the  young  Zouave. 

Out  of  the  dry  bones  of  his  dry  case  and  its  surround 
ings,  Choate  then  and  there  framed  an  address  which  cap 
tivated  a  large  and  most  discriminating  audience. 

There  were  many  theological  students  present,  gener 
ally  disposed  to  be  critical ;  as  well  as  other  students  in 
classical  literature.  All  were  delighted. 

I  remember,  in  this  speech,  a  gorgeous  description  of 
those  Andover  sunsets,  which  have  been  so  often  lauded 
by  poets  and  enthusiasts  ;  but  although  I  have  been  many 
times  thrilled  with  these  attempts  to  describe  those  beau 
ties  of  nature,  that  speech  to  those  referees,  in  the  hall  of 
the  Andover  tavern,  stands  out  above  them  all. 

Almost  anybody  but  Choate  would  have  broken  down 
in  the  attempt  to  soar  on  such  a  pinion  in  such  a  case. 
But,  at  such  times,  he  knew  no  such  word  as  fail,  nor  did 
his  auditory. 

Our  seminary  critics,  in  their  judgment  upon  the  ail- 
dress  of  the  eloquent  advocate,  were  united  and  cordial. 
If  there  had  been  any  thing  of  the  exaggerated,  or  florid, 
or  bombastic,  these  men  would  have  been  the  first  to  detect 
and  condemn. 

I  entered  Mr.  Choate's  office  as  a  student  in  the  fall  of 
1835,  at  the  old  No.  4  Court  street.  At  that  time  he  did 
a  large  office  business.  He  had  a  very  heavy  docket  in  Es 
sex,  and  was  absent  there  attending  court  two  and  three 
weeks  at  a  time.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  office  work  for 
the  students  to  do — a  good  deal  of  copying. 

I  remember  the  first  time  I  undertook  to  copy  from 
Mr.  Choate's  manuscript.  He  had  himself  drawn  off  about 
a  page  in  his  own  inimitable  chirography,  which  he  read 


110         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

over  to  me,  and  requested  me  to  copy  and  insert  in  a  Writ. 
It  was  a  "  Declaration/'  I  think.  He  was  then  leaving 
the  office.  I  got  along  pretty  swimmingly  for  a  few  lines, 
but  was  soon  brought  up.  I  worked  and  worked,  but  in 
vain.  The  perspiration  fairly  ran  off  from  me,  in  my  nerv 
ous  excitement  to  accomplish  this  duty.  A  kind  neighbor 
gave  me  a  helping  hand  in  this  extremity,  and  I  found 
daylight.  The  person  who  gave  me  this  friendly  aid  in 
deciphering  the  chirography  of  Mr.  Choate,  was  Charles 
Sumner. 

Mr.  Choate  was  a  careful  and  accurate  pleader  ;  and  I 
always  considered  him  a  very  neat  and  skillful  conveyancer. 
How  could  he  be  otherwise  ?  With  his  great  knowledge 
of  the  law,  its  principles  and  practice,  and  with  his  knowl 
edge  of  his  own  vernacular,  so  copious  and  yet  so  exact, 
you  would  expect  to  find  accuracy  and  neatness  in  all  his 
legal  writings. 

During  the  first  few  years  of  his  practice  in  Suffolk, 
his  criminal  business  was  large  ;  and,  unlike  most  of  our 
eminent  American  lawyers,  he  never  wholly  declined  re 
tainers  in  the  criminal  courts.  But  my  recollection  of 
his  habits  in  these  cases  is,  that  he  was  very  particular  as 
to  what  cases  he  took.  From  1835  down,  I  know  that 
while  he  was  as  open  and  free  as  daylight,  to  any  class  of 
clients  on  almost  any  respectable  class  of  civil  business 
(and  too  open,  and  free,  and  liberal  for  his  own  advantage), 
he  was  very  rigid  as  to  his  retainers  on  the  criminal  side, 
from  my  earliest  knowledge  of  his  habits.  The  case  must 
be  a  good  one,  and  the  retainer  $100.  If  the  statistics 
could  be  procured,  they  would  show  that  Mr.  Choate  had 
tried  a  good  many  criminal  cases  in  Suffolk.  I  remember 
now  but  four  capital  trials  in  which  he  was  engaged  for  the 
prisoner,  in  Suffolk. 


REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.      Ill 

I  had  occasion  once  to  ask  him  in  behalf  of  a  celebrated 
divine,  for  a  reference  to  some  of  the  best  authorities  on 
the  true  province  of  the  advocate  in  defending  prisoners; 
in  short,  as  to  the  old  slander  of  lawyers  defending  or  pro 
secuting  bad  cases. 

In  the  course  of  our  interview,  he  said,  no  better  an 
swer  could  be  given  than  Dr.  Johnson  made  to  Boswell  on 
the  same  subject.  "  Sir,  you  do  not  know  that  your  client 
is  guilty  until  proved  so,  under  the  law  ;"  or  something  to 
that  effect. 

He  said  that  his  own  experience  in  criminal  cases  was 
large,  and  in  the  whole  course  of  his  practice  he  never  had 
a  client  who  did  not  persist  in  declaring  his  own  innocence 
from  first  to  last.  He  said  that  his  legal  preceptor,  Judge 
Cummins,  who  had  a  large  practice  in  Essex,  told  him  a 
similar  experience.  The  judge,  however,  had  one  client, 
who  admitted  to  the  judge,  his  counsel,  that  he  was  guilty. 
He  was  tried,  defended  by  the  j  udge  and  acquitted  by  the 
direction  of  the  court,  on  legal  grounds. 

What  readiness  Choate  had  ! — there  was  no  branch  of 
law  in  which  he  could  not  readily  answer  the  questions  of 
his  junior  legal  friends,  or  at  once  refer  them  to  some  au 
thority  where  the  mooted  point  was  discussed. 

He  always  took  a  deep  interest  in  discussing  legal  ques 
tions  with  his  young  friends  :  and  did  it  cheerfully,  copi 
ously,  lovingly. 

How  liberal  he  was  with  his  treasures  of  learning  to  his 
professional  brethren.  His  friendly  advice  was  always 
ready,  and  given  without  grudge  from  the  affluence  of  his 
great  storehouse. 

And  yet  what  laborious,  and  careful  and  plodding  prep 
aration  he  made  in  the  plainest  of  cases  ! 

When  occasion  demanded,  he  was  the  readiest  of  men  : 


112  REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

and  he  undoubtedly  did  enter  upon  cases  without  much 
preparation. 

But  ordinarily,  his  preparation  was  elaborate.  He 
loved  to  exhaust  the  subject.  His  respect  for  the  Bench 
led  him  to  make  thorough  preparation  of  the  law  of  his 
case  :  and  when  his  case  was  for  the  jury,  he  remembered 
the  twelve  who  were  to  pass  upon  the  facts — for  he  always, 
as  he  said,  loent  in  for  the  verdict. 

Hence  his  preparation  of  a  case  was  generally  thor 
ough. 

I  have  known  him  hold  two  consultations  with  his 
junior,  preparatory  to  a  hearing  in  the  Probate  Court  on 
some  motion  for  a  new  bond  ;  and  I  have  known  him 
equally  elaborate  on  a  motion  to  amend  some  interlocutory 
decree  in  the  Superior  Court. 

Those  who  have  been  his  juniors  in  the  preparation  and 
trial  of  causes,  will  remember  how  he  made  them  work. 

His  favorite  book  on  Evidence  was  Phillips  (Hill  and 
Cowen's  edition).  It  is  generally  admitted  that  there  is 
almost  every  thing  in  that  copious  and  valuable  but  cum 
brous  and  ill-arranged  book ;  but  a  good  many  inquirers 
have  difficulty  in  finding  what  they  want  there. 

Choate  had  a  way  I  always  marveled  at,  of  putting  his 
finger  right  upon  the  matter  he  wanted  in  Phillips. 

His  preparation  of  his  briefs  for  arguing  a  case  to  the 
jury  in  the  progress  of  a  cause  was  marvelous. 

His  minutes  of  evidence  were  always  fully  taken  by  him 
self  in  those  goose-track  characters  infinitely  more  illegible 
than  the  cramped  piece  of  penmanship  of  Tony  Lumpkin. 

But  in  addition  to  these  notes  of  the  evidence  which  he 

was  taking  with  such  minuteness,  and  simultaneously,  he 

was  jotting  down  his  closing  speech  to  the  jury — word  for 

•word,  and  figure  for  figure — when  the  occasion  required  it. 


KEMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.     113 

His  brief,  for  addressing  the  jury,  was  full — very  ; — il 
lustrations,  etc.,  all  written  out.  But  in  his  speech  he  rarely 
looked  at  a  writing.  It  has  occurred  to  me,  that  the  mere 
act  of  putting  upon  paper  his  thoughts  stamped  them 
upon  his  memory. 

Those  copious  notes  of  the  evidence  which  he  took,  on 
the  trial  of  a  cause,  I  have  sometimes  thought  were  for  the 
information  of  court  and  jury,  and  not  to  aid  himself.  He 
forgot  nothing  which  was  said,  and  no  incident  that  took 
place  at  the  trial. 

With  the  jury,  I  think,  no  lawyer  of  our  country  was 
more  successful. 

His  power  over  them  was  in  his  eloquence,  in  thorough 
knowledge  of  his  case,  in  an  able  presentation  of  it,  and  in 
defending  it  against  attack. 

His  power  over  juries  was  fair  and  honest,  and  legiti 
mate.  He  never  tampered  with  any  of  the  panel  inside  or 
outside  the  court  room  ;  and  was  an  utter  stranger  to  the 
thousand  ways  in  which  unscrupulous  attorneys  or  parties 
practice  upon  the  prejudices,  or  passions,  or  interests  of 
jurors. 

Mr.  Choate  endeared  himself  much  to  young  men,  es 
pecially  of  his  own  profession  ;  but  everybody  loved  him, 
young  and  old.  There  was  a  charm  about  his  presence, 
which  drew  at  once  to  him  the  heart  of  youth  and  the  re 
gards  and- warm  attachment  of  riper  years.  He  was  so 
genial  and  affable. 

When  he  first  came  to  Boston,  some  of  his  old  Essex 
clients  followed  him  ;  fine  old  litigants,  the  heroes  of  a 
hundred  battle  fields.  Stout  old  formers  with  whips  in 
their  hands,  seemed  to  enjoy  with  the  keenest  relish,  the 
presence  of  that  refined  and  elegant  scholar  and  jurist. 


114   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

I  never  knew  or  heard  of  his  saying  an  unkind  word  in 
or  out  of  court. 

He  was  sometimes  in  such  great  demand,  that  the  con 
flicting  interests  of  his  clients  could  not  be  attended  to. 
A  man  with  one  lawsuit  never  forgets  it,  and  likes  to  re 
mind  his  counsel  of  it  occasionally.  In  the  minor  details 
of  cases,  clients  would  often  feel  aggrieved,  and  sometimes 
would  complain. 

To  one  of  these,  who  really  had  some  cause  to  mourn 
over  the  law's  delay,  and  who  was  just  about  opening  a 
statement  of  his  grievances  with  dolorous  visage,  to  his 
counsel,  Mr.  Choate  said,  at  the  moment  of  his  entering 
the  office,  "  Mr.  C.,  I  suffer  with  you  daily/'  The  client 
was  at  once  mollified  by  the  genial,  kindly  and  sympa 
thetic  tones  of  his  professional  advice. 

Another  client  who,  in  a  very  long  and  tedious  equity 
case  had  employed  associate  counsel,  at  Mr.  Choate's  re 
quest,  was  complaining  to  Mr.  Choate,  rather  tartly,  that 
he  could  get  no  satisfaction  from  either.  "It  seems  to 
me,  sir,"  said  the  client,  "  that  I  am  like  a  man  between 
two  stools,  I  shall  fall  to  the  ground."  "Bather,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Choate,  "like  an  ass  between  two  bundles  of 
hay." 

In  his  closing  argument  to  the  jury,  in  an  important 
insurance  cause,  in  which  one  prominent  subject  of  discus 
sion  was  the  course  of  trade,  and  the  season  of-  crops,  and 
the  judgment  to  be  used  by  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  Mr. 
Choate  was  commenting,  with  much  earnestness,  on  the 
fact  that  his  own  captain  had  intelligently  planned  his 
voyage  after  leaving  a  particular  port,  with  reference  to 
the  known  usages  of  trade  and  the  seasons.  "Why,  gen 
tlemen,"  said  he,  "what  was  this  captain  doing  all  the 
time  ?  Was  he  consulting  upon  the  interests  of  his  vessel 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  115 

and  her  owners,  or  reading  Kobinson  Crusoe,  or  playing  at 
all  fours  with  the  mate  in  his  cabin  ?" 

No  book  would  be  so  interesting  as  the  diary  of  a  law- 
j-er  in  full  practice,  with  graphic  pictures  of  the  persons 
and  incidents,  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  male  and 
female,  without  distinction,  mingled  in  the  scene.  Now  it 
is  success,  and  now  disappointment ;  business  embarrass 
ments  and  family  troubles  ;  injuries  to  the  person  and  the 
character  ;  the  subjects  of  inquiry  are  as  varied  as  time  and 
humanity. 

No  lawyer  had  so  many  characters  who  visited  him, 
from  time  to  time,  as  Mr.  Choate.  Among  these  was — say 
twenty  years  ago — one  Captain  Ashton,  a  short,  wiry, 
quick  little  Englishman,  who  claimed  to  have  been  once 
in  the  British  army.  He  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Mr. 
Choate' s  office,  and  very  chatty. 

He  claimed  to  have  loaned  several  thousand  dollars  to 
a  trader  upon  a  mortgage  of  his  stock.  The  trader  failed, 
and  his  creditors  contested  the  mortgage.  They  urged 
that  the  captain  had  no  visible  means,  no  property,  and 
couldn't  have  had  the  money  to  lend  on  mortgage  ;  and, 
moreover,  that  the  trader's  stock  of  goods  was  so  small, 
and  his  assets  so  deficient,  that  he  couldn't  have  had  the 
money. 

Captain  Ashton  contended  that  his  money  came  to  him 
from  England  in  sovereigns,  and  that  he  lent  this  gold  to 
the  trader. 

It  looked  rather  dubious  for  Ashton. 

Mr.  Choate  prepared  to  try  the  case  for  plaintiff  Ash 
ton.  It  was  to  come  on  at  Lowell. 

The  plaintiff's  witnesses  were  summoned  to  meet  Mr. 
Choate  in  a  room  of  the  hotel.  Ashton  hadn't  met  his 
debtor  for  some  time.  Mr.  Ashton  and  his  counsel,  with 


116    REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

witnesses  were  in  the  private  room,  when  the  mortgagor, 
who  had  been  notified  to  attend,  came  in.  Ashton  sprung 
at  him  like  a  tiger.  "  You  scoundrel/'  said  he,  "  you  have 
cheated  me  ;  you  have  robbed  me  of  my  gold  !" 

Mr.  Choate  remarked  to  the  writer,  years  afterward,  in 
speaking  of  this  case,  "  That  incident  satisfied  me  my  client 
was  right.  I  knew  it  and  felt  it,  and  knew  that  was  the 
case  for  me.  I  care  not  how  hard  the  case  is — it  may 
bristle  with  difficulties — if  I  feel  I  am.  on  the  right  side  ; 
that  cause  I  win!' 

Mr.  Choate  got  a  verdict ;  but  it  was  set  aside  for 
some  cause  ;  and  before  the  second  trial  Ashton  had  disap 
peared.  But  sufficient  facts  were  subsequently  develop- d 
to  leave  no  doubt  that  Ashton' s  story  was  true. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

PROFESSIONAL      REMINISCENCES. 

IN  order  to  treat  the  scattering  reminiscences  of  years 
with  some  consecutiveness  and  coherence,  it  will  be  the 
purpose  of  this  chapter,  to  grasp  in  one  view  the  chief 
points  of  recollection  of  Mr.  Choate  as  he  was,  in  his  prep 
aration  for  the  court  room,  in  the  court  room,  and  in  his 
office.  In  this  aspect  he  is  most  naturally  to  be  looked 
at,  inasmuch  as  the  legal  arena  was  the  true  forum  of  his 
life  ;  and  on  his  tomb-stone  he  would  chiefly  have  desired 
that  the  chiseled  epitaph  should  be,  "  The  .grea^jijlxft- 
cate." 

His  plan  of  the  proper  preparation  and  accomplishment 
of  a  lawyer  was  a  magnificent  one.  It  was  almost  as  com 
prehensive  as  Cicero's  scheme  of  education  for  an  orator ; 
which  made  all  knowledge  and  all  art  essential  tributaries 
to  the  true  speaker's  brain  and  tongue. 

CHOATE'S  PLAN  FOB  A  STUDENT  AT  LAW. 

In  the  first  place,  of  course,  the  principles  of  the  coia- 
mon  law  of  England,  the  basis  of  our  own,  were  to  be  mas 
tered.  Its  adaptation  to  republican  America  was  to  be 
marked,  and  the  modifications  it  underwent  with  us,  ac 
cording  as  the  different  elements  in  our  constitutional  sys 
tem  of  government  grew  or  shrunk  in  relative  importance. 
To  this  end,  therefore,  American  history  was  to  be  studied 
carefully  and  critically.  Often,  in  discussing  law  before 


118  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

the  Court.,  he  would  himself  not  only  enliven  the  discus 
sion.,  but  throw  vivid  light  on  the  construction  of  the 
mooted  provision  by  calling  the  attention  of  the  judges 
to  the  particular  phase  of  national  or  political  history 
out  of  which  the  provision  grew. 

The  Statute  law  also  was,  in  some  measure,  to  be  made 
familiar.  The  annual  reports  of  law  cases  decided,  he  kept 
up  with  fully  himself,  and  recommended  the  same  course 
to  others. 

The  study  of  the  elementary  writers  and  the  text  writ 
ers,  who  collected  all  the  law  upon  any  one  point  from  the 
numerous  decisions.,  he  did  not  disdain.  And  he  recom 
mended,  in  studying  the  text-books,  a  plan  which  he  said 
he  had  always  pursued  himself;  that- was,  to  "  break  up  a 
book/'  as  he  styled  it,  pen  in  hand,  into  many  subordinate 
little  books  ;  taking  from  every  part  of  the  book  whatever 
referred  to  one  single  branch  of  the  subject  treated,  or  a 
leading  view  of  the  law,  in  one  prominent  aspect.  Thus 
the  literary  consecutiveness  of  the  book  did  not  go  into 
the  mind,  as  the  legal  consecutiveness  of  the  topics  exam 
ined.  And  the  subjects  were  better  digested,  and  grasped 
into  more  complete  possession.  He  was  no  friend  to  lum 
bering  up  the  mind  with  undigested  crude  matter.  He 
wanted  every  thing  done,  to  make  what  was  on  one's  brain 
available  and  ready  for  delivery  in  the  mass  or  in  detail. 
Another  practice  for  a  student,  which  he  earnestly  recom 
mended,  was  to  take  any  old  reported  case,  read  its  mar 
ginal  statement  of  the  facts,  then  shut  the  book  and  study 
out  for  yourself  what  ought  to  be  the  law  on  that  state  of 
facts.  Having  come  to  the  conclusion,  and  ivritten  it  doivti 
(for  again  and  again  he  would  insist  on  the  pen  as  the  great 
instrument  of  accurate  thinking),  then  reopen  the  book 
and  compare  your  own  opinion  with  the  judges'  reported 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.  119 

decision  ;  compare  the  conclusion,  and  the  course  of  argu 
ment  by  which  they  arrive  at  it.  "  Thus  the  judges  of 
the  Supreme  Court/'  he  would  say,  "  become,  without 
knowing  it,  your  own  critical  legal  school  teachers/' 

But  besides  the  English  law,  he  had  himself  pursued, 
and  was  wont  to*  advise,  a  diligent  study  of  other  systems 
of  jurisprudence.  The  Roman  law  he  particularly  insisted 
on.  He  thought  its  reasonings  on  points  of  contested 
rights  between  man  and  man,  most  instructive  and  liberal 
izing,  even  to  the  student  of  common  law. 

These  foundation  studies  of  the  lawyer  he  was  in  favor 
of  pursuing,  in  the  first  instance,  in  some  law  school ;  un 
disturbed  and  unconfused  by  the  details  of  office  practice. 
Thus  from  this  retired  study  of  a  year  or  two,  he  said,  a 
man  would  get  a  general  but  commanding  view  of  the 
whole  body  of  the  law  ;  and  afterwards,  in  an  office,  he 
could  apply  his  principles  and  grapple  with  the  daily  de 
tails  of  business. 

But  far  beyond  the  immediate  studies  of  the  law,  his 
professional  idea  ranged  outward  and  upward  into  the  re 
gion  of  general  studies  and  the  politer  letters.  From  his 
intimate  acquaintance  with  literature,  some  have  ranked 
him  with  that  weakest  class  of  all  the  servants  of  the  Court 
— a  literary  lawyer.  He  was  no  literary  lawyer — a  lawyer 
who  aiming  to  practice  in  the  Courts,  thinks  more  of  his 
literature  than  of  his  law — less  of  his  musket  than  of  his 
uniform.  No  !  he  was  a  hard-headed,  strong-brained  law 
yer  ;  a  great  lawyer,  who  knew  letters;  but  to  whom  lit 
erature  was  the  slave  and  not  the  mistress.  I  have  no 
doubt,  from  the  opinion  of  others,  as  well  as  my  own  hum 
ble  judgment,  that  he  knew  the  law  better  than  Erskine, 
better  than  Wirt,  better  than  Emmett;  although  he  had 
not  the  Titanic  grasp  of  first  principles  in  the  law  which 


120          REMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS     CHOATE. 

Webster  held  when  roused  ;  nor  the  prodigious  stores  of 
law  learning  and  black-letter  of  which  Pinkney  justly 
boasted. 

But  literature  to  Mr.  Choate  was  of  direct  service;  and 
in  a  double  way.  It  quickened  his  fancy  and  ingenuity, 
it  enlarged  his  mind.,  without  taking  away  from  him  the 
power  to  narrow  down  its  proportions  again  to  legal  dimen 
sions  ;  the  giant  of  the  Arabian  story  could  get  out  of  his 
small  cell,  but  could  not  shrink  his  colossal  bulk  back 
again  at  will — but  this  giant  of  the  law  seemed  to  have 
ttie  expansion  and  contraction  of  his  intellect  at  equal  com 
mand.  This  general  literary  culture,  moreover,  was  of 
essential  service  to  Mr.  Choate  as  a  mental  relaxation  and 
a  pastime. 

I,  think,  at  periods  of  his  life,  he  was  conscious  of  brood 
ing  apprehensions  as  to  the  permanent  integrity  of  his 
faculties.  They  were  so  fine  and  delicate,  yet  burned  with 
such  lightning  velocity  in  their  action,  that  he  could  not 
help  remembering  with  a  melancholy  interest  the  poetic 
aphorism,  "  Great  wits  to  madness  nearly  are  allied."  It 
was  often  predicted  that,  like  James  Otis,  he  would  find  his 
mind  unhinged  at  last.  But  he  looked  into  his  beloved 
library,  he  summoned  up  his  studious  recollections  of  fifty 
years  of  enthusiasm,  he  went  the  rounds  of  his  track  of 
daily  labor  ;  and  the  great  intellect  kept  on  its  balanced 
course  on  even  poise,  strong  and  steady,  no  oscillation  on 
its  level  plane — moving  more  serenely  and  surely  and 
calmly,  till  in  the  full  exercise  of  all  its  enginery,  at  last 
it  abruptly  stopped. 

In  every  way,  he  made  literature  scrvient  to  his  law 
not  dominant  over  it ;  if  he  summoned  the  Muses  around 
him  as  he  stood  before  the  Jury  panel,  he  summoned  them 
in  chains.  From  literature  he  got  illustrations,  ideas^argu- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    OHO  ATE.  121 

merits,  phrases,  words  ;  and  last,  though  not  Ieast2  intellec 
tual  enthusiasm. 

On  all  these  accounts,  therefore,  he  vehemently  recom 
mended  the  study  of  letters  subordinated  to  law.  The 
English  lawyer,  he  would  say,  graduates  at  the  British 
Universities  a  scholar,  with  his  head  full  of  polite  learning, 
and  his  heart  full  of  enthusiasm  and  the  memories  of  Leon- 
idas  and  Marathon.  But  he  finds  the  law  is  a  jealous  mis 
tress  ;  he  applies  himself  to  her  studies  therefore  with  se 
verely  exclusive  zeal  ;  a  few  years  roll  on,  and  he  is  all 
law  ;  his  face  is  dry  and  his  heart  dryer.  Now  is  just  the 
time  when  he  should  renew  and  revive  those  liberal  studies 
of  his  youth,  and  refresh  and  sweeten  his  mind  ;  now  it 
will  not  hurt  him  to  take  his  head  out  of  his  wig  and  put 
it  into  his  library.  But  he  does  no  such  thing  ; — and  there 
has  been  but  one  Lord  Erskine. 

In  another  point  of  view,  Mr.  Choate  was  an  earnest 
advocate  of  letters  for  the  law-student.  Our  northern  and 
English  life,  he  rightly  considered  was  undemonstrative 
and  formal ;  that  it  tended  to  check  all  impulsive  enthusi 
asm  in  mind  and  feeling.  Our  utilitarian  practical  philos 
ophy  of  existence,  also,  with  the  eternal  race  and  scramble 
for  the  dollar  in  the  distance,  lowers  the  tone  of  the  mind ; 
and,  while  it  cultivates  energy,  chills  enthusiasm,  the  child 
of  nobler  aspirations  and  sunnier  climes.  But  good  litera 
ture  is  full  of  enthusiasm,  and  studying  it  you  kindle  your 
own  fires.  Thus  while  you  expand,  you  lift  up  and  heat 
your  mind  with  a  generous  glow. 

The  study  of  Rhetoric  of  course  he  would  advise.  He 
himself  was  a  thorough  master  of  all  the  rhetoric  there  was 
on  earth.  He  had  studied  it,  not  only  in  the  detail  and 
immediate  application  of  style  and  arrangement,  but  in  its 
essence  and  origin  ;  he  traced  its  precepts  back  to  see  their 

6 


122   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

source  in  traits  of  human  nature.  Aristotle,  lie  said,  laid 
out  a  chart  of  Rhetoric,  but  with  his  vast  mind  he  went 
further,  and  tracked  out  the  principles  of  the  human  soul 
from  which  it  sprung  and  to  which  it  was  applicable. 
Cicero  and  Quintilian,  in  their  practical  discussions  of  the 
art,  Mr.  Choate  knew  intimately.  And  many  a  creation  or 
an  arrangement  of  thought,  many  a  home  thrust  of  argu 
ment  in  his  own  actual  practice  in  Court,  I  am  quite  sure, 
owed  its  origin  to  their  precept,  or  to  his  own  reflection 
upon  their  thinking.  For  in  all  times,  human  nature,  and 
the  rules  applicable  to  it  are  essentially  the  same  ;  form 
varies,  but  the  essence  of  things  is  unchanged.  Julius 
Caasar  had  the  same  thoughts  in  his  head  when  he  marched 
over  Gaul,  as  Napoleon  III.  when  he  marched  over  Italy. 
Isocrates  might  set  up  the  scepter  of  his  school  of  eloquence 
here  in  the  American  Republic  instead  of  in  the  Greek  Re 
public  ;  and  with  only  trifling  changes  establish  now  a 
second  rhetorical  empire.  Mr.  Choate  called  Aristotle's  an 
ethical  rhetoric ;  and  I  remember  that  he  highly  praised 
John  Quincy  Adams'  Lectures  on  Rhetoric,  which  were 
read  originally  at  Harvard,  and  which  treated  fully  of 
Aristotle  and  all  the  ancient  rhetorical  authors. 

He  was  in  the  habit  of  saying,  "  In  literature  you  find 
ideas.  There  one  should  daily  replenish  his  stock."  He 
laid  great  stress  on  the  fertility  of  this  source  of  thoughts. 

But  it  was  for  language,  for  phrases  and  words,  that, 
more  than  all,  he  valued  books.  He  found  words  in  books, 
and  he  got  them  into  his  command  by  translations  from 
Greek  and  Latin  into  English.  Two  thousand  years  ago 
Cicero  stocked  his  vocabulary  by  the  same  plan,  translating 
from  Greek  into  Latin  ;  and  in  the  last  age  in  England, 
William  Pitt  was  trained  for  ten  years  to  translate  Latin 
and  Greek  both  into  English.  Mr.  Choate  followed  this  plan. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   123 

But  chiefly  in  his  translation,  he  attended  to  the  multipli 
cation  of  synonyms.  For  every  foreign  word  he  translated, 
he  would  rack  his  brain  till  he  got  five  or  six  correspond 
ing  English  words.  This  exercise  he  persevered  in  daily, 
even  in  the  midst  of  the  most  arduous  business.  Five  min 
utes  a  day,  if  no  more,  he  would  seize  in  the  morning  for 
this  task.  Tacitus  was  a  favorite  author  for  this  purpose, 
and  Plautus.  Cicero,  he  said,  though  noble,  could  be  too 
easily  rendered  into  a  cheap  and  common  English  ;  "and  it 
is  a  rich  and  rare  English  that  one  ought  to  command,  who 
is  aiming  to  control  a  Jury's  ear/' 

His  idea  of  diction  was,  to  ^et  hold  of  striking  and 
strange  expressions  which  should  help  him  to  hold  on  to 
the  Jury's  fatigued  attention.  Thus  he  would  always  say, 
"four  and  twenty  hundred",  instead  of  twenty-four  hundred, 
and  vary  even  the  most  obvious  expression  to  give  it  a  fresh 
look.  But  in  every  part  of  study,  preparatory  and  final, 
he  always  relied  vastly  on  the  Pen.  That  instrument  is 
the  corrector  of  vagueness  of  thought  and  of  impression  ; 
therefore  in  translating,  in  mastering  a  difficult  book,  in 
preparing  his  arguments,  in  collecting  his  evidence,  he  was 
always  armed  with  that,  to  him,  potent  weapon. 

Finally,  after  all  the  circle  of  studies  and  means  of  prep 
aration  thus  outlined,  there  was  still  another  essential  in 
his  mind  for  the  court  lawyer  ;  that  was  fervor  and  elo 
cution.  Like  Henry  Clay,  like  Grrattan,  like  Chatham, 
like  Curran,  he  trusted  to  no  native  gifts  of  eloquence.  He 
practiced  eloquence  every  day,  for  forty  years,  as  a  critical 
study.  He  would  take  some  approved  author  and  utter  a 
page  aloud,  but  not  noisily,  in  his  room  ;  struggling  to  ac 
complish  two  things — to  get  the  whole  fecliny  of  every  sen 
tence,  and  to  express  it  by  his  tones  even  more  passionately 
than  the  author  by  his  words  ;  and  also  he  labored  to  "get 


124  REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

his  throat  open/'  as  he  expressed  it  ;  by  which  I  presume 
he  meant,  an  effort  to  get  out  a  pure  round  tone,  without 
vociferation  or  clamor.  Edmund  Burke's  works  he  chiefly 
recommended  for  this  exercise,  as  being  a  cross  between 
Bolingbroke  and  Pitt. 

His  example  thus  is  a  good  lesson  to  all  aspiring 
youth,  who — in  a  country  like  ours,  more  fond  of  eloquence 
than  any  nation  since  the  Athenians — feel  ambitious  to 
command  the  public  by  earnest  discourse.  Choate  trusted 
to  no  inspiration  of  the  moment  in  his  speaking.  Every 
thing  that  could  bo  prepared,  was  prepared  ;  every  nerve, 
every  muscle  that  could  be  trained,  was  trained  ;  every 
energy  that  daily  practice  could  strengthen  was  invigorated. 
Then  and  thus,  full  armed  and  glorious,  he  swept  like  a 
conqueror  across  the  stage  in  the  scenes  of  his  forensic 
dramas.  So  all  truly  noble  orators,  in  every  age,  have 
trusted  not  to  inspiration,  but  to  preparation.  The  great 
master,  Cicero,  when  he  was  President  Consul  of  a  republic 
whose  banner  was  unchallenged  beneath  the  stars,  resorted 
daily  to  an  oratorio  school. 

It  is  apparent,  therefore,  in  this  great  modern  Advocate's 
teaching  and  example,  how  grand  his  scheme  of  education 
for  the  advocate  was  ;  and  with  what  lofty  pride  he  con 
templated  the  profession  of  which  he  was  so  illustrious  a 
member.  He  had  often  on  his  lips  the  magnificent  meta 
phor  of  Archbishop  Hooker  :  "  Of  Law,  no  less  can  be  said 
than  that  her  seat  is  the  bosom  of  God,  her  voice  the  har 
mony  of  the  spheres  ;  all  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do 
her  reverence  ;  the  greatest  as  needing  her  protection,  the 
meanest  as  not  afraid  of  her  power/'  And  he  spoke 
with  singular  enthusiasm  of  Bolingbroke's  tribute  to  the 
Law  :  "  There  have  been  lawyers  that  were  orators,  philos 
ophers,  historians  ;  there  have  been  Bacons  and  Clarendons, 


REMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS    CHOATE.  125 

my  lord  ;  there  shall  be  none  such  any  more,  till  in  some 
better  age  men  learn  to  prefer  fame  to  pelf,  and  climb  to 
the  vantage  ground  of  general  science."  I  once  remarked 
to  him,  that  the  study  of  law  became  less  dry  as  it  became 
more  intelligible,  and  that  a  man  might  absolutely  learn  to 
like  it,  "  Like  it/'  said  he  ;  "  there's  nothing  else  to  like 
in  all  this  world." 

HIS    TREATMENT    OF    THE    BAR. 

Having  such  exalted  ideas  of  the  proper  preparation 
and  education  of  a  lawyer,  and  of  the  profession  itself,  it 
would  not  have  been  surprising  if  he  had  looked  down 
upon  his  brethren  at  the  Bar — if  he  had  even  looked  super 
ciliously  upon  the  young,  and  contemptuously  upon  the  old 
members  of  the  Bar.  Pirikney  treated  his  compeers  of  his 
own  standing  at  the  bar,  with  short  and  curt  defiance;  and 
his  juniors,  he  would  use  and  employ  rather  than  honor. 
In  professional  consultations,  he  would  drain  them  of  all 
their  knowledge  and  learning  in  the  case,  use  it  all  himself, 
and  pass  it  off  as  his  own.  But  Choate  seemed  to  take  the 
greatest  pleasure  in  recognizing  and  favoring  and  compli 
menting  the  young  men  of  the  Bar.  His  own  juniors  in  a 
cause,  he  was  careful  to  show  to  the  jury  that  he  respected. 
If  any  associate  gave  him  a  hint  or  a  suggestion,  or  called  his 
attention  to  a  point  of  evidence,  he  would  instantly  avail 
himself  of  it,  even  if  he  did  not  deem  it  important,  saying, 
"  My  brother  reminds  me,"  etc.  He  thought  it  no  deroga 
tion  from  himself  to  acknowledge  obligation  to  others.  In 
all  his  intercourse  with  young  lawyers,  in  his  office  and  in 
court,  he  always  elevated  their  own  idea  of  themselves  by 
his  treatment  of  them.  Many  a  youth  who  went  in  to 
consult  with  him,  with  trembling  step  and  doubting  heart, 


126          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

has  come  out  feeling  confident  and  strong,  not  only  in  his 
case,  but  in  himself ;  he  was  so  reassured  by  the  great  law 
yer's  seeming  respect  for  him.  No  senior  counsel  at  the 
bar,  within  my  recollection.,  has  ever  treated  young  men 
as  he  did.  Could  there  have  been  a  meeting  at  his  death 
of  the  young  generation  of  the  Massachusetts  bar,  I  think 
his  memory  would  have  received  a  tribute  more  tearful  and 
true  hearted  than  was  ever  given  to  the  name  or  the  fame 
of  any  other  American  lawyer.  Many  a  young  heart  that 
had  never  met  him  except  professionally,  was  shrouded  in 
gloom  at  the  news  of  his  death  ;  and  many  a  young  man 
will  hang  up  his  portrait  in  his  office  or  his  chamber,  and 
gaze  daily  upon  it,  for  the  sake  no  less  of  his  inspiring 
than  his  affectionate  memories  of  the  great  forensic  soldier. 

But  to  his  peers  in  years  at  the  Bar,  Mr.  Choate  was 
uniformly  decorous  and  appreciative.  He  never  made  them 
feel  small  in  their  own  eyes,  although  they  must  often  have 
looked  so  in  his.  He  persuaded  them  all  that  lie  thought 
them  good  lawyers  ;  and  some  of  them  I  know  he  did  think 
great  lawyers.  He  could  see  real  merit  in  others,  as  quickly 
even  as  they  could  in  themselves.  And  he  was  prompt  and 
ready  to  admit  it.  The  only  lawyer  at  the  Suffolk  Bar 
to  whom  he  did  not  do  full  justice,  was — Eufus  Choate. 

He  regarded  the  profession  of  the  law  as  not  only  noble 
in  itself,  but  as  ennobling  all  who  were  counted  in  its  ranks. 

Every  one  who  wore  the  Advocate's  robe  and  carried  the 
green  bag,  was  respectable  in  his  eyes.  They  all  were  of 
the  number  of  those,  as  he  was  wont  to  say,  "who  admin 
ister  the  laws;''  or  to  use  another  phrase  of  his,  "those  who 
are  concerned  in  the  administration  of  this  vast  and  com 
plicated  system  of  our  law."  The  office  of  Judge,  whether 
superior  or  inferior,  was,  in  his  mind,  a  high  magistracy. 

He  contributed  to  make  many  Judges.     But  he  treated 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   127 

young  Judges  whose  ermine  his  word  of  request  had  laid 
upon  their  shoulders,  as  respectfully  as  he  treated  the 
national  ermine  of  the  United  States  Judiciary,  or  the  ven 
erable  and  awful  head  of  the  chief  Judicial  Magistrate  of 
Massachusetts. 


HIS     CASES. 

It  was  a  part  of  this  true  idea  of  the  Law,  as  a  dignity 
in  itself,  independent  of  the  particular  issue  involved,  that 
he  never  made  any  distinction  in  accepting  cases.  He  took 
every  case  that  came.  First  come,  first  served,  was  his 
motto.  Whether  this  man  would  pay,  and  that  man  would 
not  pay  ;  whether  this  case  would  offer  a  good  field  for  dis 
play,  and  that  one  was  before  an  insignificant  tribunal— 
these  considerations  never  seemed  to  enter  his  mind.  When 
reigning  at  the  summit  of  his  fame,  I  have  known  him  take 
a  little  ten  dollar  case  in  a  Police  Court ;  and  although 
when  it  came  on,  the  pressure  of  great  cases  in  which  he 
was  previously  retained,  forced  him  to  send  it  to  a  sub 
altern,  yet  at  the  time  he  fully  intended  himself  to  try  it'. 
Indeed,  he  spent  a  precious  hour  talking  it  over  with  the 
client;  a  poor  person  who  had  never  before  in  his  life 
spoken  with  so  great  a  man. 

I  remember  a  little  case  where  an  Irishman  sued  a 
countryman  of  his,  for  slander,  in  calling  him,  by  way 
merely  of  angry  vituperation,  "a  murderer."  Mr.  Choate 
took  the  case,  and  actually  gave  some  consulting  advice 
about  it,  and  was  intending  to  argue  it.  It  was  certified 
up  from  a  lower  Court  to  the  Supreme  Court,  by  a  provis 
ion  in  our  Statutes,  as  the  Plaintiff  laid  his  damages  high. 
Before  the  trial  Mr.  Choate  found  it  would  be  impossible 
to  try  it.  It  was  sent  to  a  young  lawyer,  and  when  it  came 


128  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

on,  the  Judge  who  was  holding  the  term  stormed  and  ridi 
culed  the  idea  of  such  a  case  being  brought  before  his  Court 
at  all.  Being  there,  however,  it  had  to  be  tried  ;  the  Judge, 
to  use  an  expression  of  the  Bar,  "'charged  like  thunder" 
for  the  Defendant,  and  the  Jury  promptly  returned  a  ver 
dict  for  the  Defendant,  with  costs.  So  the  Plaintiff  had  to 
pocket  his  title  of  "murderer,"  and  pay  costs  for  his  silly 
charge. 

As  Mr.  Choate  was  careless  what  cases  he  took,  so,  also, 
he  was  utterly  reckless  how  much  energy,  and  learning,  and 
time  he  gave  to  them.  He  would  go  before  a  Master  in 
Chancery,  a  Referee,  a  Legislative  Commissioner,  or  Jus 
tice  of  Peace  in  a  little  back  office,  with  the  same  glorious 
ardor,  and  the  same  complete  and  glittering  preparation,  as 
if  he  was  to  stand  before  Judge  Story,  or  Chief  Justice 
Shaw. 

A  leading  member  of  the  Boston  Bar  who  had  been 
side  by  side  with  him  for  many  years,  said  to  me  in  a  re 
cent  conversation,  that  the  finest  performance  he  ever  heard 
from  Mr.  Choate  was  in  the  little  back  office  of  a  County 
Judge  of  Probate. 

There  are  some  counselors  who  attain  great  success  by 
carefully  selecting  from  their  large  practice,  those  cases  only 
for  actual  trial,  which  are  so  strong  on  their  facts  as  to  be 
likely  to  be  won  by  advocacy.  All  their  other  cases  they 
compromise  or  settle  out  of  court ;  but  Mr.  Choate  nevci 
settled  a  case  in  his  life  from  any  such  motive.  In  his 
prime,  it  was  his  pride  to  take  every  thing,  and  beat  every 
thing  ;  and  he  rarely  lost  a  verdict. 

About  ten  years  ago  there  was  a  criminal  cause  in  the 
United  States  District  Court,  in  which  the  captain  of  a 
vessel  was  prosecuted  for  casting  away  his  ship.  The  in 
surance  companies,  to  whom  it  was  of  vital  interest  that 


REMINISG'ENCES     OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.          129 

he  should  be  condemned,  to  exonerate  them  from  the  in 
surance,  sent  a  special  messenger  to  reconnoiter  the  West 
Indies,  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  and  to  procure  evidence. 
The  messenger  was  himself  an  able  and  accurate  lawyer. 
He  chose  his  own  witnesses ;  and  on  the  voyage  home  he 
had  ample  leisure  to  confer  with  them,  and  deepen  their 
own  impression  of  what  they  had  seen,  and  what  they  were 
to  say.  Upon  their  arrival,  Choate  became  aware  substan 
tially  of  what  they  would  testify  to.  In  conversing  with 
him  about  it  he  said,  "  The  captain's  case  looks  ugly,  but  I 
shall  go  on  with  it,  and  I  think  I  shall  clear  him."  The 
trial  lasted  many  days.  He  spoke  three  days  himself. 
The  result  was — the  skipper  was  acquitted.  Here  the  gov 
ernment  picked  their  own  witnesses  ;  and  their  agent  told 
me,  on  his  arrival  at  home,  that  he  had  collected  evidence 
which  would  settle  the  case  beyond  all  question.  Unfor 
tunately  for  him  he  did  not  know  Eufus  Choate. 

All  these  professional  traits — his  indiscriminate  advo 
cacy,  his  uniform  ardor,  his  Napoleonic  defiance  of  difficul 
ties — would  be  fully  testified  to  by  any  member  of  the  bar 
who  knew  him  well.  In  a  speech  before  the  Massachusetts 
Historical  Society,  of  which  Mr.  Choate  was  a  member, 
Mr.  P.  W.  Chandler,  who  had  been  long  in  practice  at  the 
same  tribunals  with  him,  bore  testimony  to  all  these  quali 
ties  very  fully,  and  very  happily,  in  these  words : 

"  Mr.  Choate' s  greatness  as  a  lawyer,  apart  from  his 
remarkable  natural  powers,  must  be  attributed  to  his  in 
tense  love  for,  and  his  enthusiastic  devotion  to  its  duties, 
and  to  an  almost  utter  self-abnegation  while  engaged  in 
the  practice  of  his  avocation.  His  power  of  application 
was  most  extraordinary.  He  was  so  pressed  and  absorbed 
by  professional  engagements  that  it  was  often  difficult  to 
consult  him  at  any  length  ;  and  in  the  preliminary  prepa- 

G* 


130  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

tions  of  a  cause  lie  did  not  manifest  the  zeal  and  enthusi 
asm  that  might  be  expected.  Indeed  there  was  sometimes 
a  feeling  that  he  took  little  or  no  interest  in  the  success  of 
his  client.  But  when  the  trial  was  fairly  commenced,  his 
whole  energies,  all  of  his  powers,  were  completely  absorbed. 
To  those  who  have  never  been  associated  with  him  it  is 
impossible  to  convey  any  adequate  idea  of  his  entire  devo 
tion  to  the  cause  on  trial.  Nothing  escaped  his  attention. 
He  never  confessed  defeat,  he  never  lost  heart,  he  never 
was  discouraged ;  and  at  every  adverse  turn  in  the  evi 
dence,  at  every  discouraging  ruling  of  the  judge,  his  ener 
gies  seemed  to  rise  to  meet  the  new  emergency ;  and  the 
fertility  of  his  resources  was  wonderful. 

"  Nor  in  his  arduous  labors  did  he  seein  to  be  influ 
enced  by  the  ordinary  selfish  considerations  of  other  men. 
Most  of  our  race  are  looking  forward  to  some  especial  and 
prospective  benefit  as  a  reward  for  present  exertions.  The 
desire  of  wealth,  the  love  of  power,  official  position,  an  old 
age  of  ease,  the  '  Sabine  farm'  in  the  distance  ;  these  not 
seldom  appear  with  considerable  distinctness,  but  not 
with  him.  He  appeared  to  labor  for  the  love  of  it.  He 
found  his  reward  in  doing  the  work  which  was  set  before  him. 

"  The  magnitude  of  the  cause,  or  the  character  of  the 
tribunal,  seemed  to  make  no  difference.  Whenever  and 
wherever  he  appeared,  whether  in  the  highest  tribunal  of 
the  land  or  before  the  humblest  magistrate  known  to  the 
law,  there  was  sure  to  be  a  hard  struggle.  I  have  known 
him  contest  a  trifling  matter  before  a  Master  in  Chancery 
for  several  weeks  where  the  compensation  must  have  been 
entirely  inadequate.  The  ablest  argument  I  ever  heard 
him  make,  and  perhaps  the  ablest  it  was  ever  my  fortune 
to  hear,  was  before  a  single  judge  at  chambers,  with  no  au 
dience,  not  even  the  presence  of  his  own  client  The 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE.     131 

amount  involved  was  comparatively  small,  but  the  ques 
tion  interested  his  mind.  He  had  given  it  a  most  patient, 
and  careful,  and  thorough  investigation  ;  and  for  many 
hours  he  discussed  it  with  all  the  vigor  he  could  bring  to 
bear,  with  a  brilliancy  of  rhetorical  power  truly  wonder 
ful,  and  with  an  array  of  all  the  learning  which  could  by 
any  possibility  aid  him  in  the  case. 

"  '  How  is  it  possible/  some  one  exclaimed,  '  that  a 
man  of  his  age,  after  so  many  years  of  practice,  and  in  the 
midst  of  such  labor,  can  bring  so  much  zeal,  enthusiasm, 
and  power  to  bear  under  circumstances  like  these — no  au 
dience,  no  applause,  no  client,  a  single  judge,  and  a  private 
room  ?'  c  It  is  blood,'  was  the  reply,  c  and  nothing  else. 
He  can  no  more  help  it  than  the  race-horse  brought  upon 
the  course  can  help  exerting  his  whole  powers  for  victory/ 
This  is  partly  true  undoubtedly.  There  was  '  blood' — the 
complete  mental  organization — the  nervous  energy,  the  re 
markable  temperament ;  but  there  was  also  the  long  and 
careful  training,  the  days  and  nights  of  toil  to  this  result, 
and  the  inflexible  principle,  worked  into  the  soul  by  this 
systematic  drill,  to  do  every  thing  in  the  best  manner  at 
all  times,  and  to  be  equal  to  every  occasion.  He  had 
drawn  in  the  spirit  of  the  great  masters  of  the  law  enough 
to  know  and  to  feel  that  in  undertaking  any  man's  cause1, 
his  client  was  entitled  to  his  best  energies,  his  whole  pow 
ers,  and  all  the  zeal  he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  mat 
ter  in  controversy." 

HIS     MORALE     OF     ADVOCACY. 

The  question  how  far  a  lawyer  may  go  for  his  client  and 
for  victory  in  a  cause,  has  often  been  mooted.  It  is  doubt 
less  true,  that  every  man  and  every  cause  has  a  right  to  the 
benefit  of  the  laws  of  the  land  ;  has  a  right  to  be  defended 


132  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

according  to  the  laws  ;  arid  unless  he  can  be  put  in  jeopardy 
in  strict  accordance  with  the  principles  of  evidence  and  of 
law,  he  ought  not  to  "be  jeopardized  or  harmed,  no  matter 
what  his  seeming  guilt  may  be.  Hence  the  most  universally 
acknowledged  reprobate  has  a  right  to  a  defense.  When  a 
prisoner  accused  of  murder  has,  in  the  course  of  a  trial, 
after  "putting  himself  upon  the  country,"  subsequently 
risen  in  his  box,  and,  notwithstanding  his  plea  of  "not 
guilty,"  confessed  his  guilt,  the  court  has  frequently  re 
fused  to  receive  his  acknowledgment,  and  ordered  the  trial 
to  proceed.  They  held  that  he  must  now  be  tried  by  law, 
and  so  convicted,  or  else  set  free.  Therefore,  the  idea  is  a 
false  one  that  when  a  party  confesses  himself  in.  the  wrong, 
the  lawyer  is  to  abandon  the  cause.  A  counsel  ought  not 
to  think  any  thing  about,  or  know  any  thing  about,  whether 
his  client  is  right  or  not ;  he  only  ought  to  think  what  can 
legitimately,  legally  ~be  said  for  him — what,  according  to 
the  accepted  principles  of  our  law,  is  the  legal  defense.  If 
from  the  powerful  presentation  of  that  defense,  the  guilty 
defendant  goes  scot  free,  the  fault  is  not  the  lawyer's  ;  but 
if  through  his  scrupulousness  even  the  guilty  is  convicted 
without  really  a  competency  of  legal  evidence  to  prove  his 
guilt,  the  lawyer  is  almost  as  much  guilty  as  if  the  inno 
cent  were  convicted. 

Our  system  of  law  practice  is  based  upon  the  idea  that 
upon  the  whole,  in  the  long  run,  more  guilt  will  be  pun 
ished,  and  more  innocence  saved,  by  the  efforts  of  counsel 
pulling  in  opposite  directions  with  all  their  might,  keeping 
themselves  within  the  rules  of  legal  evidence  and  legal  ar 
gumentation  ;  for  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  no  one  on 
earth  knows  certainly  which  is  the  guilty  and  which  is  the 
innocent ;  even  confession  of  guilt  does  -not  prove  guilt. 
Many  instances  are  recorded  when,  from  weakness  and  from 


REMINISCENCES    OF    IIUFUS    C1IOATE.  133 

various  motives,  men  have  said  they  were  guilty,  when 
subsequent  events  have  shown  they  were  not  so  ;  and, 
therefore,  till  the  judgment  day  of  all  flesh  shall  separate 
the  sinner  from  the  saint,  the  system  of  our  Anglo-Saxon 
law  is  the  best  system  for  attaining  a  high  average  of  cor 
rectness  in  the  adjudication  of  rights  and  wrongs. 

Indeed,  there  are  cases  reported  in  the  books  where  the 
attorney  has  been  sued  for  abandoning  his  cause,  when  the 
evidence  came  out  black  and  hopeless,  or  the  defendant 
confessed  in  his  private  ear  his  complicity  in  the  crime  ; 
and  in  these  reported  cases  the  attorney  has  been  himself 
adjudged  guilty  of  neglect,  and  mulcted  in  damages. 

Lord  Brougham  once  entered  upon  a  discussion  of  this 
subject ;  he  went  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  go  in  support  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  utter  identification  of  the  counsel  with 
the  client's  legal  interest. 

Perhaps,  while  assenting  to  the  general  doctrine,  there 
may  yet  be  some  degrees  in  one's  absolute  acquiescence  in 
it  practically  ;  but  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  draw  the 
line. 

Mr.  Choate  accepted  and  acted  in  the  doctrine  with  no 
qualification  whatever  ;  he  carried  it  practically  as  far  as 
Lord  Brougham,  and  carried  it  to  the  extremist  verge  of 
honor  ;  yet  he  was  scrupulously  careful  not  to  do  any  thing 
which  would  be  false  to  his  attorney's  oath,  taken  when  lie 
entered  the  bar,  to  be  true  to  the  court  as  well  as  the 
client.  He  was  also  true  and  fair  to  his  opposite  counsel ; 
he  never,  during  the  period  of  mv_observation  of  him,  took 
any  advantage  of  doubtful  character  ;  no  mean  and  treach 
erous  ambuscade,  no  surprises,  jao_. pitfalls  masked  with  re 
assuring  flatteries  ;  he  fought  hard^ Juil JuaJaaght  foirty  ; 
he  conceded  to  his  adversaries  nothing  that  he  ought  not 
to  concede,  but  he  conceded  every  thing  up  to  that  line. 


134  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     C  HO  ATE." 

As  he  never  got  angry,  so  he  never,  from  pettishness, 
bore  down  on  an  antagonist  with  unusual  severity,  or  from 
mere  spite  tried  his  cause  with  gratuitous  sharpness  and 
disposition  to  worry  ;  and  he  never  pettifogged  :  but  he  took 
every  just  and  proper  advantage  ;  he  never  yielded  an  inch 
of  real  standing  ground  ;  he  never  gave  up  ;  he  fought  his 
cause  through  every  court  into  which  it  could  be  carried  or 
driven  ;  and  he  went  for  victory  to  the  last  beat  of  the 
pulse  and  the  last  roll  of  the  drum. 

Many  lawyers  make  a  gallant  struggle  in  a  cause  when 
it  is  first  up  ;  but  if  after  verdict  it  is  again  to  be  con 
tested,  on  dilatory  motions,  or  in  a  new  trial,  they  lose 
their  interest  and  dispute  it  languidly.  Mr.  Choate  could 
not  bear  to  try  a  cause  over  twice  ;  it  lost  its  novelty,  its 
picturesqueness  to  him,  and  became  stale  ;  but,  neverthe 
less,  he  went  into  the  battle  of  its  repetition  with  the  same 
gallant  and  defiant  steadiness  ;  the  same  labor,  the  same 
zeal.  He  had  the  feeling  of  the  true  soldier,  without  fear 
and  without  reproach — he  must  win  or  die  ;  that  case  was 
his  Malakoif,  it  must  be  taken. 

No  matter  how  sick  he  was,  if  he  could  not  get  indul 
gence  from  the  court,  he  must  battle  on  in  the  case  ;  no 
matter  how  many  considerations  might  be  suggested  of  the 
formidable  antagonism  of  facts  or  of  counsel,  of  the  insig 
nificance  of  his  client's  interest,  or  the  feebleness  of  his 
cause,  that  Malakoif  must  come  down  ;  and  before  its 
walls,  he  would  rally  every  pulsation  of  his  power  to  the 
extremest  energy  of  his  whole  being. 

How  gallant  it  was  to  see  him  standing  in  a  disputed 
cause  before  some  judge  of  mind  enough  to  comprehend 
him  ;  and  see  him  turning  from  judge  to  jury,  and  from 
jury  to  judge,  struggling  and  battling  to  do  away  with  or 
to  qualify  the  deadly  ruling  ;  to  see  him  agonizing,  as  it 


KEMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.       135 

were,  before  the  judgment  seat ;  standing  up  there  with  all 
his  powers  in  action,  the  perspiration  of  his  energy  abso 
lutely  raining  from  his  curling  locks,  the  great  veins  in 
his  temples  standing  out  like  the  veins  of  a  mettled  blood- 
horse  on  his  race-ground,  the  glorious  flash  of  his  eye  burn 
ing  on  the  intent  judge,  his  head  expanding  with  a  thousand 
thoughts,  and  charging  on  the  jury  with  the  whole  mag 
netic  battery  of  all  his  tones,  his  thunder,  and  his  smiles  ! 

And,  though  the  case  grew  even  blacker  and  more  des 
perate  under  the  decisions  of  the  judge,  he  never  wavered 
I  have  seen  the  court  rule  him  down,  his  statement  of  evi 
dence  directly  contradicted  by  his  adversary  appealing  to 
the  minutes  of  the  Bench,  the  judge  check  him  in  mid 
career  with  the  declaration  that  he  was  "  all  wrong,"  but  the 
daring  advocate  was  not  at  all  discomfited  ;  instantly,  as 
the  laugh  of  the  crowd  and  even  of  the  jury  rose,  he  would 
plunge  away  into  some  other  portion  of  the  discussion  of 
the  case,  distract  the  minds  he  could  not  conquer,  cover 
up  his  momentary  defeat  with  an  electric  burst  of  humor, 
setting  the  court  room,  judge  and  all,  in  a  roar,  and  rush 
on  in  his  argument ;  going  for  a  disagreement  of  the  jury, 
at  any  rate,  and  another  trial,  with  one  more  chance  for 
victory. 

In  the  same  address  of  Mr.  Chandler  to  which  a  refer 
ence  has  been  made,  he  discusses  the  morale  of  this  chival- 
ric  devotion  of  Mr.  Choate  to  his  cause,  with  the  practical 
wisdom  which  we  should  expect  from  a  lawyer  of  so  much 
experience,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  much  genuine  prin 
ciple.  He  says : 

"It  is  not  improbable  that  this  earnest  performance  of 
duty  may  have  been  the  occasion  of  grave  misconstruction 
on  the  part  of  a  portion  of  the  public,  in  relation  to  his 
principles  of  action.  People  outside  of  our  tribunals  of 


136  REMINISCENCES    OF    KUFUS    CIIOATE. 

justice,  and;  not  seldom,  spectators  themselves,  are  very 
apt  to  dictate  the  course  which  a  lawyer  ought  to  pursue, 
and  openly  express  their  indignation  when  his  efforts  run 
counter  to  their  own  prejudices  and  preposessions  ;  and  their 
indignation  knows  no  bounds  when  the  final  result  does 
not  accord  with  their  own  judgments. 

"  The  necessity  of  the  legal  profession  to  the  machinery 
of  the  social  fabric  in  a  free  State  is  undeniable,  and  all 
history  shows  that  popular  liberty  is  best  preserved,  ad 
vanced  and  defended,  where  the  legal  profession  is  most 
unrestricted  and  free.  There  is,  and  there  has  been,  no 
free  profession  in  a  despotism.  When  a  celebrated  Emperor 
of  Kussia  was  in  England,  he  expressed  the  utmost  aston 
ishment  at  the  consideration  in  which  the  legal  profession 
was  there  held.  He  declared  that  there  never  was  but  one 
lawyer  in  his  dominions,  and  he  had  caused  him  to  be  hung. 
And  well  he  might,  for  such  a  man  would  be  much  in  the 
way  of  the  arbitrary  proceedings  in  a  despotic  country. 
And  even  in  free  and  enlightened  governments,  the  popu 
lar  excitement  against  private  individuals,  who  happen  to 
incur  popular  odium,  is  a  dangerous  element,  which  re 
quires  some  check  in  the  machinery  of  society  itself,  or  great 
wrongs  will  often  be  done.  When  popular  excitement  is 
at  the  highest  point — when  popular  clamor  is  loudest,  and 
a  victim  is  absolutely  demanded,  and  seems  necessary  for 
peace,  it  is  no  small  safety  for  every  member  of  the  com 
munity  to  have  a  class  of  men  educated  and  trained  for  the 
purpose  of  defending  those  who  can  not  defend  themselves, 
to  step  forth  us  the  advocate,  if  not  the  friend,  of  those  who 
are  hunted  by  popular  clamor,  to  give  their  time,  their  tal 
ents,  their  learning  and  their  skill  in  defense  of  those  whom 
all  others  desert — to  breast  the  fury  of  the  people — to  stem 
tlio  popular  current — and  to  insist  upon  a  full,  fair  and 


REMINISCENCES    OF    KUFUS     CHOATE.  137 

impartial  investigation  before  the  victim  is  offered  up.  And 
when  we  reflect  that  men  have  been  convicted  and  have 
suffered  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law,  whose  innocence 
was  afterwards  made  manifest  to  the  world  j  that  men 
have  sometimes  confessed  themselves  guilty  of  crimes  of 
.which  they  were  entirely  innocent,  we  shall  see  more  clearly 
the  need  of  a  legal  profession,  and  shall  be  more  cautious 
of  condemning  those  who  enter  into  their  duties  with  zeal 
and  energy  and  enthusiasm — who  mean  to  do  their  whole 
duty  irrespective  of  the  applause  or  clamor  of  the  public 
while  laboring  under  temporary  excitement." 

This  view  of  a  lawyer's  duties  is  the  true  view,  and  yet, 
at  Boston  dinner  tables,  I  have  heard  Mr.  Choate  called 
"  a  grand  engine  of  social  oppression." 

When  you  brought  your  case  to  him  he  heard  you  with 
paternal  gentleness  and  encouragement.  But  the  duty  of 
his  junior  counsel  was  not  done  when  he  had  simply  re 
tained  Choate.  He  must  watch  him.  Until  the  cause  was 
actually  opened  in  Court,  he  was  a  most  uncertain  ally. 
Whoever  would  be  sure  of  his  services  must  follow  him  up 
and  hold  on  to  him,  remind  him  perpetually,  and  when  the 
cause  was  reached  almost  seize  and  take  him  bodily  into 
Court.  Once  there,  in  his  chair,  and  the  case  begun,  there 
was  no  more  danger. 

Choate  had  heard  the  opening,  his  mind  was  now  on 
the  facts  ;  and,  like  the  tiger  who  has  tasted  blood,  he 
must  pursue  the  game.  But  prior  to  that  such  was  the 
multiplicity  of  his  engagements,  he  was  in  so  many  cases 
at  the  same  time,  in  so  many  Courts,  and  moreover  he  was 
at  liable  to  be  sick  with  violent  headaches,  that  unless 
you  were  very  assiduous,  your  great  champion  would  slip 
through  your  fingers.  When,  however,  you  had  once  sat 


138    REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE. 

down  by  him  at  the  table,  before  the  faces  of  the  Jury,  all 
was  safe. 

After  the  cause  was  opened  and  as  it  progressed,  par 
ticularly  if  it  was  a  long  case,  Choate  seemed  to  become 
utterly  lost  in  it.  He  thought  of  nothing  and  felt  for  noth 
ing  but  his  client.  He  acted  just  as  that  client  himself . 
would  have  acted  had  he  suddenly  been  gifted  with  the 
gifts  of  law  and  of  tongues.  From  that  moment,  the  cli 
ent's  interest  was  Choate's  religion. 

He  was  never  a  respecter  of  persons,  except  of  truly 
great  persons.  The  accidental  distinctions  of  American 
society  he  thought  nothing  of.  The  shabby  charlatanry 
of  aristocracy  in  a  democratic  republic,  he  scouted  at.  The 
maxims  of  self-interest  also,  pecuniary  or  general,  were  a 
sealed  book  to  him  ;  and  hence  his  client,  whoever  he  was, 
was  sure  to  have  the  whole  of  him  and  the  best  of  him, 
whatever  interest  or  person  was  arrayed  in  the  hostile  ranks. 
Whoever  or  whatever  stood  in  the  way  of  his  success, 
whether  high  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  must  go  down.  It  would 
go  down  with  no  unnecessary  flourish  of  trumpets,  no  bul 
lying,  no  violence,  no  insult, — but  it  must  go  down. 

He  has  often  told  me,  that  when  actually  in  a  case  a 
lawyer  should  surrender  all  his  mind  to  it.  "Do  not  read/' 
he  would  say,  "even  in  the  evening  or  the  intermission  ; 
think  of  the  case,  dream  of  the  case  incessantly  till  it  is 
over.  And  always,"  he  would  add,  "proceed  upon  the  cap 
ital  rule  to  do  your  very  best  on  every  occasion/' 

His  demeanor  and  bearing  in  the  court  room,  was  very 
interesting.  It  was  a  model  of  gentlemanly  deference.  He 
took  his  seat  in  the  most  modest,  unassuming  way.  Indeed 
he  never  did  any  thing  which  had  the  appearance,  to 
use  the  vulgar  phrase,  of  "  making  a  spread."  If,  as  some 
times  happened,  the  opposite  counsel  was  a  young  man,  the 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.          139 

manner  of  the  youth  would  generally  indicate  that  he  was 
the  greater  man  of  the  two.  Even  when  the  evidence  was 
in  and  Mr.  Choate  came  into  Court,  on  the  morning  of  the 
argument,  pressing  his  way  through  the  thronged  Bar  and 
the  crowded  aisles,  he  came  with  no  bold  warranty  of  su 
premacy  and  success  in  his  manner.  He  would  slide  defer 
entially  into  his  chair;  sling  off  several  of  his  innumerable 
coats,  pile  up  his  papers  before  him,  rub  his  hands  through 
his  tangled  hair,  push  his  little  table  slightly  away,  rise 
and  say  something  to  the  Judge,  which  seemed  the  begin 
ning  of  a  low  conversation,  but  which  you  afterwards  dis 
covered  was  a  "May  it  please  your  Honor/'  then  turn  to  the 
Jury  with  a  trite  remark  or  two — the  intent  crowd  would 
settle  a  little — and  then  in  a  few  sentences  more,  ere  any 
body  was  aware  of  it,  he  would  be  sailing  up  into  the  heaven 
of  pathetic  adjuration,  and  bearing  you  along  with  him ; 
like  a  stately  balloon  swinging  steadily  upwards,  far  away 
in  the  air. 

During  the  whole  trial  his  "action"  was  a  study.  In 
his  later  years,  he  rarely  knew  much  about  a  cause  till  he 
got  into  Court.  But  after  the  opening  by  his  junior,  and 
hearing  the  other  side,  he  seemed  to  grasp  it  as  by  intu 
ition.  He  gave  great  attention  to  all  the  opening  prelim 
inaries.  He  did  not  chat  with  those  surrounding  him,  nor 
did  his  eyes  wander.  Hardly  were  the  preliminaries  fin 
ished  when  he  seemed  to  have  taken  in  the  whole  case. 
Such  had  been  his  immense  experience  that  I  suppose  he 
had  a  parallel  in  his  memory  for  almost  every  case,  and 
could  see  the  end  from  the  beginning,  just  as  great  and  ex 
perienced  soldiers  will  see  the  future  inevitable  combina 
tions  of  a  battle  from  the  opening  tactics  ;  for  let  any  in 
terlocutory  point,  in  discussing  evidence  or  the  character 
of  the  case,  arise,  even  very  near  the  beginning ;  and  Mr. 


140  REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

Clioate  would  follow  his  junior  in  its  discussion  with  a 
step  as  steady,  and  a  theory  as  true,  as  if  he  had  been  con 
sulting  upon  it  for  a  week. 

He  took  constant  and  copious  notes,  in  an  indescribable 
and  incomprehensible  hand.  He  would  write  on,  up  to  the 
very  last  moment  before  rising  to  address  the  jury.  It  has 
been  said  that  he  wrote  sheets  of  manuscript  enough  to 
stretch  in  straight  line  across  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  What 
all  this  was  which  be  wrote  nobody  ever  fully  knew.  Much 
of  it  was  evidence,  much  of  it  also,  I  suspect,  was  rhetoric 
and  incidental  observations.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that 
he  cultivated  his  blind  hand  to  mask  what  he  did  write. 
When  he  came  to  address  the  jury,  two  thirds  of  his  argu 
ment  apparently  would  be  written  •  and  this,  with  other 
circumstances,  always  led  me  to  think  that  he  actually  be 
gan  his  speech  to  the  jury,  in  his  head  and  on  his  paper, 
upon  the  very  first  page  of  his  notes,  as  the  evidence  was 
going  in.  Certainly,  in  most  of  his  cases,  he  had  no  time 
after  the  evidence  was  in  to  prepare  such  copious  writings 
as  those  which  he  spoke  from. 

Every  night  during  a  trial  he  took  home  his  notes,  col 
lated,  digested,  and  rearranged  them  with  reference  to  the 
final  argument.  He  could  do  this ;  but  any  less  experi 
enced  mind  would  many  times  have  gone  astray  in  the 
attempt.  But  from  the  lips  of  the  first  witness,  he  saw  the 
prophecy  of  his  argument. 

He  was  critically  careful  to  have  every  word  down  on 
paper  which  was  uttered  in  evidence  ;  and  if  he  was  called 
out  of  Court  at  any  time  for  a  few  moments,  lie  would 
compliment  some  young  member  of  the  Bar  or  student 
who  happened  to  be  near  him,  by  placing  him  in  his  seat 
to  continue  the  notes  of  the  evidence  while  he  was  gone. 

In  a  great  patent  case,  in  which  Daniel  Webster  was 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    141 

opposed  to  him,  he  opened  his  speech,  to  the  jury  by  say 
ing  :  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  have  no  fear  for  my  cause 
on  its  merits,  but  (glancing  around  at  Webster)  I  do  fear 
transcendent  ability,  exerted  with  triumphant  confidence/' 
Webster  smiled  grimly  ;  and  when,  after  two  hours  of 
talking,  the  Court  took  a  recess  of  a  few  minutes,  and 
Choate  went  out,  the  great  Daniel  quietly  took  up  some 
pages  of  the  extraordinary  writing  of  the  opening  of 
Choate's  argument,  tore  it  up  deliberately,  and  handed 
it  round  to  the  delighted  ladies,  who  encircled  the  arena 
of  the  two  heroes'  contests  in  one  long  crescent  of  beauty. 

HIS   MAGNETISM    AND   KNOWLEDGE    OF    A   JURY. 

Mr.  Choate's  appeal  to  the  jury  began  long  before  his 
final  argument;  it  began  when  he  first  took  his  seat  before 
them  and  looked  into  their  eyes.  He  generally  contrived 
to  get  his  position  as  near  to  them  as  was  convenient ;  if 
possible  having  his  table  close  to  the  bar,  in  front  of  their 
seats,  and  separated  from  them  only  by  a  narrow  space  for 
passage.  Then  he  looked  over  them  and  began  to  study 
them.  Long  before  the  evidence  was  in,  either  by  observa 
tion  or  inquiry,  he  had  learned  the  quality  of  every  one  of 
them.  It  is  said  that  a  considerable  portion  of  Mr.  Web 
ster's  closing  appeal  in  the  great  Salem  Knapp  case  was  in 
tended  especially  for  one  juror  of  a  very  conscientious  char 
acter.  Many  and  many  a  time  Mr.  Choate  directed  solid 
masses  of  his  oratorio  artillery  upon  the  heart  or  head  of  a 
peculiar  juryman,  whose  individuality  he  had  learned  dur 
ing  the  trial.  I  saw  him  once  in  an  argument  walk  straight 
up  to  a  juryman,  and  say,  "  Sir,  I  address  myself  to  you.  I 
will  convince  you  now,  if  you  will  give  me  your  attention ;" 
and  then  he  proceeded  to  launch  upon  him  a  fiery  storm  of 


142          REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

logical  thunderbolts  to  conquer  or  paralyze  what  he  saw  was 
his  deadly  hostility.  Frequently,  when  he  was  in  a  case, 
he  has  said  to  me,  "  That  juryman  in  front,"  or  "  that 
one  on  the  back  seat,  are  the  only  ones  I  fear.  The  fore 
man,  thank  God,  is  all  right."  Or  again  he  would  say  : 
"  Do  you  see  that  somber  looking  individual  in  the  mid 
dle  ?  His  private  history  makes  him  loth  to  believe  us  ;>; 
or,  "  That  man  there  thinks  he  knows  so  much,  he's  deter 
mined  to  have  it  all  his  own  way."  Thus  he  daguerreo- 
typed  their  individual  characters  on  his  mind  before  he 
spoke  to  them. 

But  he  not  only  observed  them  to  find  them  out,  he 
watched  them  to  impress  them.  No  chance  was  lost  in 
the  progress  of  the  case  for  this  object ;  no  opportunity  for 
raising  a  quiet  smile  or  a  loud  laugh ;  for  interjecting  some 
propitiatory  remarks  ;  for  showing  the  superiority  of  his 
own  good  nature  over  his  adversary  ;  for  saying  something 
grateful  to  men  generally,  so  that  the  jury  could  hear  it ;  or 
even  tickling  them  by  some  home  thrust  carelessly  thrown  out. 

It  used  to  be  said  of  Henry  Clay,  in  the  United  States 
Senate,  that  he  was  a  magnificent  actor  •  certainly,  it- 
might  be  said  of  Mr.  Choate  that  he  was  in  Court  a  con 
summate  actor.  It  always  seemed  to  a  close  observer  as  if 
he  did  every  thing  for  effect  upon  the  jury,  from  the  read 
ing  of  the  writ  to  the  last  word  of  the  argument.  There 
he  sat,  calm,  contemplative  ;  in  the  midst  of  occasional 
noise  and  confusion  solemnly  unruffled  ;  always  making 
some  little  headway  either  with  the  jury,  the  court,  or  the 
witness  ;  never  doing  a  single  thing  which  could  by  possi 
bility  lose  him  favor,  ever  doing  some  little  thing  to  win 
it ;  smiling  benignantly  upon  the  counsel  when  a  good 
thing  was  said  ;  smiling  sympathizingly  upon  the  jury 
when  any  juryman  laughed  or  made  an  inquiry ;  wooing 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.   143 

them  all  the  time  with  his  magnetic  glances,  as  a  lover 
might  woo  his  mistress ;  and  seeming  to  preside  over  the 
whole  scene  with  an  air  of  easy  superiority ;  exercising 
from  the  very  first  moment  an  undefinable  sway  and  in 
fluence  upon  the  minds  of  all  before  and  around  him. 

His  humor  and  wit  helped  him  in  every  stage  of  the 
cause.  It  relieved  the  tired  attention,  and  often  would 
kindle  up  such  a  sympathetic  conflagration  of  glee  all  over 
the  court  room,  that  the  dry  case  seemed  to  take  a  new 
start  from  that  moment,  and  the  lawyers  looked  up  as  if 
they  had  taken  in  a  sudden  draft  of  fresh  air.  His  humor 
was  most  distinguished  for  its  odd  association  of  very  op 
posite  ideas,  and  ideas  naturally  very  distant  from  each 
other.  Many  of  his  great  and  sudden  mirthful  effects 
were  produced  by  his  tone  and  manner,  quite  as  much  as 
by  his  words.  He  would  utter  them  so  quietly,  masking 
them  by  a  very  deliberate  and  solemn  utterance  of  the 
whole  sentence,  till  suddenly  the  point  broke  out.  A 
counsel  in  a  patent  cause  interrupted  him  with  the  decla 
ration,  "  There's  nothing  original  in  your  patent ;  your 
client  did  not  come  at  it  naturally!'  Choate  looked  at 
him  one  instant  with  mirthful  scorn.  "  What  does  my 
brother  mean  by  naturally  ?"  said  he.  "  Naturally  !  we 
don't  do  any  thing  naturally.  Why,  naturally,  a  man 
would  walk  down  Washington  street  with  his  pantaloons 
off !"  The  oddity  of  the  idea,  no  less  than  the  force  of  the 
argument  involved,  combined  with  the  slightly  sarcastic 
jocoseness  of  the  manner,  to  make  the  joke  irresistible,  and 
every  human  being  in  the  court  room  laughed  immoderately. 
Even  the  grave  United  States  judge — for  it  was  in  the  Dis 
trict  Court — absolutely  rolled  on  his  seat  with  laughter. 
In  seeking  to  keep  out  the  evidence  of  a  certain  witness  in 
another  case,  Mr.  Choate  said,  "  This  witness'  statement 


144          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

is  no  more  like  the  truth  than  a  pebble  is  like  a  star ;" 
then  he  paused,  the  queerness  of  the  comparison  provoked 
a  smile,  but  on  he  went  with  his  peculiar  intonation,  "  or 
a  witch's  broom-stick  is  like  a  banner-stick/'  This  sudden 
climax  of  comparison,  as  might  be  expected,  produced 
great  shouting. 

In  a  railroad  accident  case,  where  they  ran  over  a  car 
riage  at  a  crossing,  he  was  showing  that  the  company  could 
not  have  had  any  look-out.  "  They  say/'  he  exclaimed, 
"  the  engine-driver  was  the  look-out.  The  engine-driver  the 
look-out  !  Why  what  was  he  doing  at  this  moment  of 
transcendent  interest  ?"  (the  moment  of  passing  the  cross 
road.)  "  What  was  the  look-out  doing  ?  Oiling  his 
pumps,  they  say — oiling  his  pumps,  gentlemen  of  the 
jury  !  a  thing  he  had  no  more  business  to  be  doing  than 
he  had  to  be  writing  an  epic  poem  of  twenty-four  lines." 
The  association  of  ideas  here  between  the  oily  engine  man 
and  the  creation  of  an  epic  poem,  was  one  of  the  most  ex  • 
traordinary  ever  uttered  ;  but  its  effect  was  decisive. 

All  along  the  case,  like  the  electric  spark  upon  the 
wire,  his  humor  and  sportiveness  sparkled  and  shone ; 
cheering  and  irradiating  the  dull  and  tedious  stages  of  the 
day's  investigation.  If,  as  was  sometimes,  though  rarely 
the  case,  he  left  the  cause  with  his  juniors  for  half  a  day, 
what  a  contrast,  to  those  who  had  been  spectators  of  the 
whole,  there  was  in  the  life  and  movement  of  the  scene  ! 
How  every  thing  seemed  to  drag,  the  judge  to  grow 
drowsy,  the  jury  to  become  discontented  !  It  was  like 
the  stage  after  the  star  goes  off ;  or  the  heavens  when  the 
stars  go  out.  But  let  him  come  rolling  and  muttering 
into  Court,  invested  in  the  panoply  of  all  his  coats,  and 
how  quickly  all  was  life  and  interest  again  ! 

His  courage  in  a  cause  was  indomitable.     No  disaster, 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RIIFUS     CHOATE.  145 

no  breaking  down  of  a  witness,  no  unexpected  ruling  of  the 
Court "  took  his  courage  out  of  him/7  He  never  thought  any 
case  lost,  till  "judgment"  had  been  entered,  and  a  "motion 
to  review"  the  judgment  denied.  And  he  not  only  struggled 
to  the  last,  but  he  struggled  bravely;  with  high  hope,  and 
cheering  all  with  confidence.  He  tried  a  weak  cause,  I 
think,  better  than  a  strong  one.  The  worse  the  cause  was, 
the  stronger  he  was  ;  a  very  safe  cause  he  did  not  seem  to 
know  accurately  what  to  do  with.  The  richness  of  his  evi 
dence  embarrassed  him.  He  was  accustomed  to  maneuver 
a  few  troops,  and  concentrate  them  on  many  points  of  the 
adverse  line,  with  masterly  intellectual  strategy  ;  but  with 
an  army  bigger  than  the  enemy,  he  actually  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  In  this  respect  he  was  very  different  from 
Webster.  Webster  was  not  very  formidable  in  a  weak 
case.  But  if  it  was  strong,  he  was  invincible  ;  no  man 
could  take  his  verdict  from  him.  Choate,  however,  seemed 
strongest  when  literally  he  almost  created  his  case. 

Mr.  Choate' s  manner  to  the  opposite  counsel  was  al 
ways  conciliatory,  never  supercilious.  If  the  counsel  was 
young,  his  manner  to  him  was  gentle  and  paternal.  Some 
times  a  brazen-faced  lawyer,  who  had  won  an  equivocal 
position  by  his  very  roughness  and  impudence,  would  try 
the  game  of  brusqueness  and  bullying  with  him ;  supposing 
from  his  suavity  and  dignity  that  something  could  be  gained 
by  vulgar  audacity.  But  Mr.  Choate  had  ways  of  dealing 
with  men,  known  only  to  himself.  He  would  put  such  a 
man  down  very  early  in  the  case,  and  do  it  so  mildly  and 
neatly,  that  the  victim  would  hardly  know  what  hurt  him. 
He  would  feel  that  the  laugh  was  against  him,  but  could 
hardly  tell  why.  In  bandying  words  and  in  repartee, 
Choate  was  unrivaled.  His  prompt  wit  was  never  so  scin 
tillating  as  when  it  flashed  out  of  the  dark  cloud  which 

1 


146         REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE. 

gathered  over  his  case  from  some  damaging  remarks  of  his 
adversary.,  or  gloomy  testimony  of  a  witness.  His  repar 
tees,  too,  were  always  made  with  an  air  of  regretful  neces 
sity  ;  not  as  if  he  said  them  for  victory  or  for  resentment, 
This  added  exceedingly  to  their  effect.  They  seemed  so 
very  honest. 

His  manner  to  the  judge  was  always  in  the  highest  de 
gree  deferential.  It  was  almost  filial.  He  had  a  feeling 
of  poetic  veneration  for  the  judge,  as  the  titular  sovereign 
of  that  forensic  scene  which  was  the  theater  of  his  love 
as  well  as  of  his  labors.  How  splendid  a  character,  and 
how  august  a  figure  was  his  ideal  of  the  judge,  appears  in 
the  word-picture  of  such  a  magistrate,  which  he  drew  in 
his  great  speech  in  the  Massachusetts  Convention  against 
an  elective  judiciary.  He  said  eveiy  judge  should  have 
something  of  the  venerable  and  illustrious  attach  to  his 
character  and  function  in  the  feelings  of  men  ;  and  he  went 
on  to  observe  :  "  The  good  judge  should  be  profoundly 
learned  in  all  the  learning  of  the  law,  and  he  must  know 
how  to  use  that  learning.  Will  any  one  stand  up  here  to 
deny  this  ?  In  this  day,  boastful,  glorious  for  its  ad 
vancing  popular,  professional,  scientific,  and  all  education, 
will  any  one  disgrace  himself  by  doubting  the  necessity  of 
deep  and  continued  studies,  and  various  and  thorough  at 
tainments,  to  the  bench  ?  He  is  to  know  not  merely  the 
law  which  you  make  and  the  legislature  makes,  not  consti 
tutional  and  statute  law  alone,  but  that  other,  ampler,  that 
boundless  jurisprudence,  the  common  law,  which  the  suc 
cessive  generations  of  the  State  have  silently  built  up  ;  that 
old  code  of  freedom  which  we  brought  with  us  in  the  May 
flower  and  Arabella,  but  which  in  the  progress  of  centuries 
we  have  ameliorated  and  enriched  and  adapted  wisely  to 
the  necessities  of  a  busy,  prosperous  and  wealthy  commu- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          147 

nity, — that  he  must  know.  And  where  to  find  it  ?  In 
volumes  which  you  must  count  by  hundreds,  by  thousands  ; 
filling  libraries  ;  exacting  long  labors  ;  the  labors  of  a  life 
time,  abstracted  from  business,  from  politics  ;  but  assisted 
by  taking  part  in  an  active  judicial  administration  ;  such 
labors  as  produced  the  wisdom  and  won  the  fame  of  Par 
sons,  and  Marshall,  and  Kent,  and  Story,  and  Holt,  and 
Mansfield.  If  your  system  of  appointment  and  tenure  does 
not  present  a  motive,  a  help  for  such  labors  and  such  learn 
ing  ;  if  it  discourages,  if  it  disparages  them,  in  so  far  it  is 
a  failure. 

"  In  the  next  place,  he  must  be  a  man,  not  merely  up 
right,  not  merely  honest  and  well-intentioned — this  of 
course — but  a  man  who  will  not  respect  persons  in  judg 
ment.  And  does  not  every  one  here  agree  to  this  also  ? 
Dismissing,  for  a  moment,  all  theories  about  the  mode  of  ap 
pointing  him,  or  the  time  for  which  he  shall  hold  office,  sure 
I  am,  we  all  demand,  that  as  far  as  human  virtue,  assisted 
by  the  best  contrivances  of  human  wisdom,  can  attain  to  it, 
he  shall  not  respect  persons  in  judgment.  He  shall  know 
nothing  about  the  parties,  every  thing  about  the  case.  He 
shall  do  every  thing  for  justice,  nothing  for  himself,  nothing 
for  his  friend,  nothing  for  his  patron,  nothing  for  his  sov 
ereign.  If  on  the  one  side  is  the  executive  power,  and  the 
legislature,  and  the  people — the  sources  of  his  honors,  the 
givers  of  his  daily  bread — and  on  the  other,  an  individual 
nameless  and  odious,  his  eye  is  to  see  neither  great  nor 
small ;  attending  only  to  the  '  trepidations  of  the  balance/ 
If  a  law  is  passed  by  a  unanimous  legislature,  clamored  for 
by  the  general  voice  of  the  public,  and  a  cause  is  before 
him  on  it  in  which  the  whole  community  is  on  one  side 
and  an  individual  nameless  or  odious  on  the  other,  and  he 
believes  it  to  be  against  the  Constitution,  he  must  so  de- 


148    REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

dare  it,  or  there  is  no  judge.  If  Athens  conies  there  to 
demand  that  the  cup  of  hemlock  be  put  to  the  lips  of  the 
wisest  of  men,  and  he  believes  that  he  has  not  corrupted 
the  youth,  nor  omitted  to  worship  the  gods  of  the  city,  nor 
introduced  new  divinities  of  his  own,  he  must  deliver  him, 
though  the  thunder  light  on  the  un  terrified  brow." 
/  Although  of  course  in  all  his  lifetime  he  confronted  but 
few  judges  who  were  equal  to  his  noble  ideal,  yet  he  always 
treated  the  office,  the  magistracy,  as  if  the  incumbent  were 
fully  up  to  it,  intellectually  and  morally.  Sometimes  when 
hegot  out  o^CojirJL^iiftiir:  he  had  been  exhibiting  treasures 


of  thought  and  throes  of  energy  before  a  judge  who  sat, 
armed  in  immobility,  unmoved  by  thought,  law,  or  pas 
sion,  he  has  said  to  me,  in  his  hot  wrath,  "  That  judge  is  an 
old  woman — he's  an  old  fool — he  can't  put  two  ideas  to 
gether — he  ain't  fair — lie's  ugly  as  the  devil !"  But  when 
his  momentary  heat  passed  oif  he  would  be  the  first  to  ac 
knowledge  that  perhaps  the  judge  was  right,  after  all ; 
"  and,  at  any  rate,"  he  would  say,  "  I  know  he  means  to 
be  right."  And  I  remember  to  have  heard  him  speak  in 
terms  of  thy  highest  encomium  of  one  judge,  now  living, 
against  whom  he  often,  in  a  storm  of  disappointment  at 
his  unshaken  rulings,  volleyed  forth  much  conversational 
thunder. 

Even  a  Sheriff,  when  he  was  addressing  a  sheriff's  jury, 
he  regarded  as  a  delegated  minister  of  the  law,  and  clothed 
temporarily  with  its  ermine  and  insignia.  He  showed  this 
on  one  such  occasion  when  the  adverse  lawyer,  twenty  years 
younger  than  himself,  treated  the  sheriff  with  a  flippancy 
and  disrespect  which  moved  Mr.  Choate's  disapprobation. 
There  the  lawyer  sat,  sprawling  about  over  his  chair,  ad 
dressing  the  presiding  sheriff  with  great  familiarity,  and 
never  rising  out  of  his  seat.  At  length  it  came  Mr. 


REMINISQENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE.   149 

Choate's  turn  to  say  something  upon  an  interlocutory 
point  of  evidence.  Slowly  and  decidedly  he  rose  up,  stood 
an  instant,  and  then  commencing,  said :  "I  rise,  Mr. 
Chairman  (for  I  always  stand  in  publicly  addressing  the 
sheriff  of  my  county),  to  say  before  you  upon  this  matter/' 
etc.  He  did  not  look  at  the  opposite  counsel,  but  every 
one  felt  the  application,  and  there  was  a  general  buzz  of 
approval.  After  that,  which  ever  way  the  other  lawyer 
did,  there  was  laughter.  If  he  got  up  in  speaking  to  the 
chairman-sheriff,  they  laughed,  because  he  seemed  shamed 
into  it ;  if  he  sat  down,  they  laughed,  because  they  knew 
he  must  be  ashamed  of  it. 

To  the  jury,  Mr.  Choate's  manner  was  that  of  a  friend, 
a  friend  solicitous  to  help  them  through  their  tedious  in 
vestigation  •  never  that  of  an  expert  combatant,  intent  on 
victory,  and  looking  upon  them  as  only  instruments  for  its 
attainment. 

Every  thing  he  did  in  Court,  in  manner  and  in  word, 
was  done  very  quickly.  Yet,  paradoxical  as  it  may  seem, 
it  was  done  with  an  air  of  great  deliberation.  It  was 
quick,  it  seemed  slow.  If  he  rose  to  discuss  an  interlocu 
tory  point  of  evidence  or  practice,  he  got  up  half  way  and 
commenced,  "  May  it  please  your  Honor," — then  he  seemed 
to  drag  the  rest  of  his  length  after  him  up  into  a  per 
pendicular,  and  advanced  some  sentences  before  he  fully 
straightened  up.  Of  course  this  was  not  always,  but  often 
the  case.  Sometimes,  though  rarely,  he  would  seem  to 
champ  and  foam  as  he  rolled  about  in  his  seat,  impatient 
to  reply  to  a  severe  antagonist  who  was  trying  to  keep  out 
one  of  his  witnesses ;  but  usually  he  struggled  up  from 
his  chair,  commenced  in  a  most  casual  sort  of  way,  as 
if  he  knew  he  was  right,  but  it  was  of  very  little  conse 
quence  ;  the  loss  would  be  theirs,  not  his.  Soon  the  sen- 


150     REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS^CHOATE. 

tences  would  multiply,  the  blood  mount,  the  contentious 
appetite  warm  by  what  it  fed  on  ;  and  before  he  sat  down 
he  would  often  make  one  of  his  best  short  speeches — a  full 
speech  in  miniature.  Many  of  these  were  .very  fine  and 
commanding,  not  only  for  their  law  and  their  logic,  but 
their  genius.  In  these  short  parades  of  his  eloquence  one 
would  be  most  struck  with  the  precision  and  neatness  of 
his  statement,  the  graphic  character  of  his  pictures,  the 
telling  point  of  his  illustration — a  metaphor  sometimes  so 
pat  to  the  purpose  that  it  would  strike  conviction  like  a 
shock  to  your  thoughts — and  two  or  three  little  closing, 
compact  sentences,  which  would  sum  up  the  whole  argu 
ment  about  the  controverted  point,  sending  it  home  in 
solid  volley.  In  these  encounters  of  small  arms,  the  agil 
ity  and  muscle  of  his  intellect  were  perhaps  better  seen 
than  in  the  encounter  of  large  arms  in  the  great  argument 
of  hours. 

His  speech  to  Evidence,  either  in  its  support  or  strug 
gling  to  exclude  it,  was  one  of  his  grand  powers.  He  had 
such  a  store-house  of  analogies  in  his  mind,  that  he  could 
work  over  and  work  over  a  proposition  of  evidence,  until 
he  brought  it  under  an  acknowledged  principle  of  law,  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  removed  it  far  from  any  acknowledged 
principle  of  law.  At  Nisi  Prius  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  a  judge  to  detect  the  fallacy  which  often  lurks  in  these 
arguments  for  the  competency  of  evidence,  so  subtle  was 
the  craft  of  their  invention,  so  plausible  the  cunning  of 
their  arrangement,  and  so  sympathetic  was  the  ardor  with 
which  he  presented  them. 

It  sometimes  happened,  especially  in  Patent  causes,  that 
he  did  not  think  it  safe  to  show  his  hand  early  in  the  case, 
by  saying  frankly  what  precise  points  his  client  rested  on. 
When  this  was  so,  it  was  very  interesting  to  see  how 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   151 

adroitly  and  skillfully  he  eluded  or  resisted  the  efforts  of 
the  counsel,  and  even  the  Court,  to  compel  him  to  a  disclos 
ure.  In  a  very  important  patent  cause  which  was  upon 
trial  before  a  judge  of  great  ability  and  shrewdness,  the 
Court  asked  him  at  the  recess  at  the  close  of  the  first  morn 
ing,  "  to  state  a  little  more  fully  what  principles  he  relied 
on  in  his  patent."  "  Oh,  certainly/'  he  unhesitatingly  re 
plied.  "  I  was  about  to  do  that  this  afternoon,  but  I  will 
very  cheerfully  anticipate  it  ;"  and  then  putting  on  his 
most  blind  and  solemn  face,  he  rushed  into  a  very  fluent, 
elaborate,  and  apparently  intelligible  description  of  the 
desired  point.  When,  however,  this  had  proceeded  some 
time,  the  keen  judge,  who  saw  that  he  was  not  getting  any 
light,  interrupted  him  just  at  the  conclusion  of  one  sen 
tence,  "  There,  Mr.  Choate,  just  there  !  Now,  will  you  tell 
me  just  there  exactly  what  you  mean  by  that  language  ?" 
"  Undoubtedly,  your  honor,"  and  he  did  state  a  little  more 
clearly  what  he  seemed  to  desire,  but  immediately  after 
stated  it  again  a  little  more  vaguely  ;  and,  in  fine,  though 
interrupted  several  times,  contrived  to  talk  half  an  hour  in 
such  a  way,  that  it  could  not  be  said  at  all  that  he  refused 
the  information,  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  could  it  be  said 
that  he  gave  the  least  ray  of  the  much-longed-for  light. 
At  last,  the  judge  leaned  back  in  his  seat,  exhausted  with 
his  keenly-attentive  effort  to  follow  and  catch  Choate  in 
the  nimbleness  of  this  intellectual  sally  ;  and  suffered  him 
to  close  unmolested  with  any  further  inquiry.  As  Mr. 
Choate  gathered  his  papers  into  his  green  bag  and  went 

out,  I  remarked  to  him,  "  Judge  -  does  not  seem  to 

have  got  much  light  yet."  "  No,"  with  a  shrug  and  a 
wink,  said  he  ;  "  it  will  be  a  good  while  before  he  does,  I 
rather  think."  The  truth  was,  in  the  critical  posture  of 
the  case,  it  would  have  been  extremely  dangerous  for  his 


152      REMINISCENCES    OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE, 

client,  to  define  at  the  outset  precisely  where  he  would  rest. 
He  wanted  to  draw  the  fire  of  the  other  side  first. 

This  case  was  hotly  contested,  but  at  last,  when  Choate 
thought  the  time  had  come,  he  showed  his  hand,  and  got  a 
verdict. 

He  sat  in  court  during  a  trial,  apparently  wholly  un 
conscious  that  he  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  ;  that  the 
crowd  inside  as  well  as  outside  of  the  bar  were  staring  at 
his  raven  locks,  the  eagle  luster  of  his  look,  as  he  would 
run  his  big  white  hands,  both  at  a  time,  up  and  down  and 
over  the  black  curls  on  his  head,,  vexed  in  thought ;  the 
numerous  coats  piled  over  his  chair  and  piled  on  to  his 
back  ;  and  the  erect  firm  figure  he  presented  when  he 
straightened  himself  up  to  say  any  thing  with  emphasis  to 
court  or  jury.  Except  by  his  head  thus  laureled  with  curls, 
— from  which,  by  every  token,  intellect  looked — his  marked 
physiognomy,  and  the  homage  paid  him  by  all  around  him, 
no  one  would  suppose  that  that  was  the  Magnus  Apollo, 
the  King  of  the  drama,  to  whom  all  the  rest  of  the  perform 
ers  were  subordinates  and  supernumeraries.  He  himself 
never  thought  of  it.  He  was  always  absorbed  with  the 
world  within  ;  never,  except  when  in  his  battle,  with  the 
world  without.  When  not  in  action,  he  sat  pensive  and 
profound  ;  incessantly  he  rubbed  his  close  curling  locks 
when  not  writing  or  speaking,  and  tossed  his  hair  up  from 
behind  on  his  head,  with  a  short,  quick,  impatient  jerk,  as 
if  thought  was  stirring  and  tumultuous  within  for  ever. 
Occasionally,  if  he  perceived  any  thing  "jolly,"  as  he 
phrased  it,  especially  if  the  Court  condescended  to  say  any 
thing  mirthful,  he  would  lean  back  and  throw  his  head 
round  upon  the  bar,  with  a  sweeping  glance  and  an  electric 
smile  which  would  make  the  whole  semicircle  of  lawyers 
feel  momentarilv  cheerful. 


K  E  M  I  N  I  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF      11  U  F  U  S     C  II  0  A  T  E .     153 

*. 

His  smile  was  a  peculiar  one.  It  was  a  thoughtful, 
but  a  beautiful  smile.  It  always  seemed  to  me  a  very 
efficient  instrument  of  his  fascination.  It  did  not  seem  so 
hearty  as  it  was  rich  and  fascinating.  Coming  out,  as  it 
did,  upon  a  face  so  wan  and  dark,  its  effect  was  luminous. 
But  it  was  not  a  soul-felt  smile  ;  it  was  an  intellectual 
smile.  His  dark,  sad  eyes  did  not  laugh  ;  his  waving  lips 
alone  spoke  mirth  •  and  the  expression  of  glee  did  not  last 
a  moment  on  his  features — it  glittered,  and  was  gone. 

His  generalship  of  a  case  throughout  was  Napoleonic. 
He  was  as  careful  as  Bonaparte  to  leave  no  point  un 
guarded,  and  to  pass  over  nothing  which  might  by  possi 
bility  be  turned  to  service.  He  never  committed  the  blun 
der  of  despising  his  enemy ;  but  always  fought  on  the  plan 
of  supposing  the  adversary  to  be  about  to  display  all  the 
possible  power  of  his  side.  He  never  believed  himself 
victorious,  till  he  was  victorious.  Until  the  last  moment 
he  fought  hard  and  guardedly,  with  both  prudence  and 
power. 

His  examination  of  witnesses-in-chief  was  admirable. 
He  drew  out  a  narrative  of  humble  facts,  in  such  a  way 
that  they  lay  out  before  the  mind's  eye  like  history  writ 
ten  by  master  pens. 

But  his  cross-examination  was  a  model.  As  was  said, 
in  speaking  of  his  conversations,  he  never  assaulted  a  wit 
ness  as  if  determined  to  brow-beat  him.  He  commented 
to  me  once  on  the  cross-examinations  of  a  certain  eminent 
counselor  at  our  Bar  with  decided  disapprobation.  Said 
he,  "  This  man  goes  at  a  witness  in  such  a  way  that  he 
inevitably  gets  the  jury  all  on  the  side  of  the  witness.  I 
do  not/'  he  added,  "  think  that  is  a  good  plan."  His  own 
plan  was  far  more  wary,  intelligent,  and  circumspect.  He 
had  a  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature,  of  the  springs 

7* 


154   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

of  human  action,  of  the  thoughts  of  human  hearts.  To 
get  at  these  and  make  them  patent  to  the  jury,  he  would 
ask  only  a  few  telling  questions — a  very  few  questions,  but 
generally  every  one  of  them  was  fired  point  blank,  and  hit 
the  mark.  He  has  told  me,  "  Never  cross-examine  any 
more  than  is  absolutely  necessary.  If  you  don't  break 
your  witness,  he  breaks  you  ;  for  he  only  repeats  over  in 
stronger  language  to  the  jury  his  story.  Thus  you  only 
give  him  a  second  chance  to  tell  his  story  to  them.  And 
besides,  by  some  random  question  you  may  draw  out  some 
thing  damaging  to  your  own  case."  This  last  is  a  fright 
ful  liability.  Except  in  occasional  cases,  his  cross-exami 
nations  were  as  short  as  his  arguments  were  long.  He 
treated  every  man  who  appeared  like  a  fair  and  honest  per 
son  on  the  stand,  as  if  upon  the  presumption  that  he  was 
a  gentleman  ;  and  if  a  man  appeared  badly,  he  demolished 
him  ;  but  with  the  air  of  a  surgeon  performing  a  disagreeable 
amputation — as  if  he  was  profoundly  sorry  for  the  neces 
sity.  Few  men,  good  or  "bad,  ever  cherished  any  resentment 
against  Choate  for  his  cross-examination  of  them.  His 
whole  style  of  address  to  the  occupants  of  the  witness' 
stand  was  soothing,  kind,  and  reassuring.  When  he  came 
down  heavily  to  crush  a  witness,  it  was  with  a  calm,  reso 
lute  decision,  but  no  asperity — nothing  curt,  nothing  tart. 
I  never  saw  any  witness  get  the  better  of  him  in  an  en 
counter  of  wit  or  impudence.  Very  rarely,  if  ever,  did  he 
get  the  laugh  of  the  court  room  fairly  against  him.  He 
had  all  the  adroitness  of  the  Greek  Pericles  ;  of  whom  his 
adversary  said,  that  he  could  throw  Pericles,  but  when  he 
did  throw  him  he  insisted  upon  it  that  lie  never  was  down, 
and  he  persuaded  the  very  spectators  to  believe  him.  Oc 
casionally  Mr.  Choate  would  catch  a  Tartar,  as  the  phrase 
goes,  in  his  cross-examinations.  In  a  District  Court  case 


KEMINISCENCES     OF     IIUFUS     CHOATE.       155 

he  was  examining  a  government  witness,  a  seaman  who 
had  turned  States'  evidence  against  his  comrades,  who  had 
stolen  moneys  from  the  ship  on  a  distant  shore.  The  wit 
ness  stated  that  the  other  defendant,  Mr.  Choate's  client, 
instigated  the  deed.  "  Well,"  asked  Choate,  "  what  did  he 
say  ?  Tell  us  liow  and  ivliat  he  spoke  to  you  ?"  "  Why/' 
said  the  witness,  "  he  told  us  there  was  a  man  in  Boston 
named  Choate,  and  he'd  get  us  off  if  they  caught  us  with 
the  money  in  our  boots!'  Of  course  a  prodigious  roar  of 
mirth  followed  this  truthful  satire  ;  but  Choate  sat  still, 
bolt  upright,  and  perfectly  imperturbable.  His  sallow  face 
twisted  its  corrugations  a  little  more  deeply  ;  but  he  uttered 
the  next  question  calmly,  coolly,  and  with  absolute  intre 
pidity  of  assurance. 

His  voice,  in  examining  witnesses,  was,  I  think,  richer 
than  in  his  speaking.  It  seemed  more  under  control,  arid 
more  sonorous  and  musical.  In  speaking,  his  frenzy  of 
excitement  always  robbed  his  voice  of  much  of  its  melody. 
Its  tones  seemed  flattened  out  by  his  vehemence,  as  waves 
are  flattened  down  by  the  violence  of  the  very  winds  that 
raise  them.  The  contrast  between  Mr.  Choate's  tone  in 
examining,  and  that  of  the  counsel  whom  he  followed,  was 
generally  very  marked.  His  voice  would  seem  to  take 
hold  of  the  witness,  to  exercise  a  certain  sway  over  him, 
and  to  silence  the  audience  into  a  hush.  The  highest 
degree  of  energy  is  probably  inconsistent  with  beauty  or 
melody.  Hence,  in  Mr.  Choate's  extreme  energies  of  the 
final  argument,  he  lost  in  mere  agreeableness  what  he 
gained  in  striking  power.  In  this  he  was  not  altogether 
singular.  Richard  Lalor  Shiel  and  Grattan,  the  great 
Irish  orators,  both  of  them,  in  their  impassioned  mo 
ments,  spoke  in  a  hoarse  shriek  or  scream.  Mr.  Choate 
often  absolutely  choked  out  his  highest  notes  with  a  sort 


156   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

of  smothered  scream  ;  but  in  examining  the  witnesses,  his 
rich  voice  was  allowed  to  exhibit  much  of  its  variety,  and 
all  of  its  resonancy. 

To  the  professional  observer  the  progress  of  the  case  up 
to  the  end  of  the  testimony  was  as  interesting  as  any  of 
Mr.  Choate's  exhibitions  of  talent ;  his  whole  forensic  strat 
egy,  and  his  close  tactics,  were  so  fine.  But  it  was  when 
at  last  the  evidence  was  all  in,  the  adversary's  argument 
closed  (if  Choate  was  for  plaintiff),  and  all  done  but  his 
own  closing  argument — then  it  was  that  expectation  stood 
on  tiptoe  ; — then  there  was  the  running  together,  the  ac 
companying  crowd,  the  grand  hush  of  applauding  atten 
tion,  the  whole  array  of  accompaniments  of  which  Cicero 
speaks,  when  the  eloquent  counselor  occupies  the  scene 
which  he  makes  splendid,  and  possesses  as  his  own. 

On  these  occasions  Choate  would  always  try  to  contrive 
to  end  the  business  of  the  caso  at  the  close  of  a  day  ;  so 
that  he  might  have  the  night  of  rest,  and  an  early  morn 
ing  of  preparation  before  his  closing  argument.  If,  how 
ever,  it  became  necessary,  he  would  trust  to  no  early  morn 
ing  preparations,  but  would  sit  up  all  night  to  conclude 
and  perfect  his  preparation.  Thus,  by  this  exhaustive 
care  well  armed  and  appointed,  punctually  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  Court,  the  crowd  would  see  him  to  their  great 
delight,  come  rolling  into  the  court  room  ;  his  plethoric 
green  bag  in  his  hand,  stuffed  to  its  utmost  capacity,  very 
likely  a  buff-colored  law  book  under  his  arm,  his  neck  all 
bundled  up  in  a  tippet  like  the  whole  of  a  fleece  swathed 
round  it,  and  his  body  covered  with  different  colored  coats. 
In  later  years  he  will  be  well  remembered  as  always  wear 
ing  outside  of  all  a  strange-looking  gray,  coarse,  weather- 
stained  coat,  which  slipped  on  and  off  easily.  Under  this 
were  the  ranks  of  its  allies.  Thus,  on  the  morning  of  ar- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C II  GATE.  157 

gument,  lie  would  serpentine  into  his  seat,  with  eyes  cast 
down,  and  a  deprecating  look.  Arrived  at  his  little  table, 
one  coat,  and  perhaps  two,  would  come  off;  and  during 
the  few  moments  of  preliminary  waiting,  he  would  sit 
there,  looking  as  restless,  nervous,  and  wretched  as  a  man 
on  a  scaffold  momentarily  expecting  the  drop  to  fall  under 
him.  His  cheeks  told  his  internal  excitement,  by  the 
darker  shades  of  their  coffee-colored  hue,  and  his  deep  eyes 
looked  spectral  in  the  earnestness  of  his  thought ;  while  con 
stantly  his  long,  bony  fingers  were  tossing  up  his  locks 
of  jet,  as  if  his  head  burned  for  more  ventilation. 

At  last,  the  crier  has  called,  the  jurymen  are  in  their 
seats,  and  the  Court  gives  the  signal  of  readiness  to  hear. 
With  no  fuss,  but  with  decision,  the  combatant  strips  for 
the  work  by  tumbling  off  another  coat  or  two  ;  slowly  he 
rises,  pushes  his  table  a  little  back,  clears  a  space  hardly 
large  enough  for  the  skirts  of  his  coat  to  swing  round  in, 
and  with  an  unfailing  bow  to  the  judge,  utters  his  "  May 
it  please  your  Honor,  and  Gentlemen  of  the  jury." 

In  my  inexperience,  I  used  to  wonder,  at  first,  that  he 
lid  not  have  a  large  space  cleared  for  him  in  front  of  his 
place,  appropriate  to  the  mighty  effort  which  all  anticipated 
from  him.  But  herein  was  his  policy.  He  deprecated  any 
thing  which  should  seem  to  the  jury  as  if  he  contemplated 
a  grand  attack  upon  them.  On  the  contrary,  when  at  last 
he  opened  his  mouth  to  them,  he  began  in  a  low  conversa 
tional  tone  with  a  remark  or  two  which  dispelled  all  ap 
prehension,  and  put  him  and  them  at  once  on  a  familiar, 
and  for  the  purpose  of  the  case,  fraternal  footing — "  I 
think,  Mr.  Foreman  and  Gentlemen,  you  will  be  all  very 
glad  with  me  that  we  are  getting  to  the  end  of  this  tedious 
investigation/''  Then  he  often  went  on  by  complimenting 
them  upon  the  "  never-failing  kindness"  of  their  patient 


158    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

attention  thus  far  ;  and  hoped  they  would  only  "  from  a 
sense  of  duty"  go  with  him  to  the  end.  Having  reenlisted 
their  feelings  for  him,  he  did  not  neglect  to  notice  "  the 
benignity  of  the  Bench/'  and  with  calm  progress,  in  a  few 
moments  he  would  seize  their  entire  attention,  and  glide 
upward  into  a  current  of  eloquence  as  he  opened  what  he 
called  the  general  "  outside  view  of  the  case."  This  pre 
liminary  "outside  view"  of  his,  was  a  sort  of  overture  played 
before  the  opera  •  and  hinting  at  every  air  and  chorus  which 
would  be  played  in  the  whole  course  of  the  effort.  This, 
his  overture,  was  a  vague  idealized  passionate  view  of  his 
side  of  the  whole  case,  touching  every  general  prejudice  or 
passion  which  favored  his  cause,  grouping  the  most  telling 
of  his  facts-  in  hasty  allusion,  and  giving  in  rough  outline 
the  main  idea  upon  which  he  relied  and  to  which  he  wished 
the  mind  of  the  jury  to  turn.  This  "  outside  view"  was 
not  unfrequently  the  most  eloquent  and  captivating  section 
of  his  whole  work  ;  crowded  as  it  was  with  every  allusion 
calculated  to  stir  or  to  propitiate,  catching  every  ray  of 
light  which  he  saw  beaming  from  the  case,  and  concen 
trating  it  in  the  burning  focus  of  one  single  and  simple  and 
central  view  of  all  the  confused  masses  of  detail  to  which 
the  attention  of  the  jury  had  been  for  hours  or  days  directed. 
On  this  first  strike,  he  greatly  relied  for  conquering  his 
jury.  He  often  said  to  me,  that  the  first  moments  were 
the  great  moments  for  the  advocate.  Then,  said  he,  the 
attention  is  all  on  the  alert,  the  ears  are  quicker,  the  mind 
receptive.  People  think  they  ought  to  go  on  gently,  till, 
somewhere  about  the  middle  of  their  talk,  they  will  put 
forth  all  their  power.  But  this  is  a  sad  mistake.  At  the 
beginning,  the  jury  are  all  eager  to  know  what  you  are 
*oing  to  say,  what  the  strength  of  your  case  is.  They 
don't  go  into  details  and  follow  you  critically  all  along  ; 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C II  GATE.  159 

they  try  to  get  hold  of  your  leading  notion,  and  lump  it 
all  up.  At  the  outset,  then,  you  want  to  strike  into  their 
minds  what  they  want — a  good  solid  general  view  of  your 
case  \  and  let  them  think  over  that  for  a  good  while." 
"  If,"  said  he,  emphatically,  "  you  havn't  got  hold  of  them, 
got  their  convictions  at  least  open,  in  your  first  half  hour  or 
hour,  you  will  never  get  at  them  at  all." 

In  accordance  with  this  theory, — which  was  so  original 
and  so  contrary  to  all  his  classic  masters  of  Antiquity, — he 
threw  himself  into  this  mellifluous  and  mighty  overture 
with  the  whole  thunder  of  his  genius.  This  was  his  first 
grand  assault  in  storming  the  Malakoff  which  often  towered 
before  him  in  the  resolute  brows  of  the  un  terrified  Twelve. 
"  Try  this  young  captain,"  he  said  once,  imploringly,  "  as 
you  would  try  your  own  sailor-boy  son,  the  boy  with 
the  blue  jacket  and  the  bright  eyes  ;  try  him,  leaning 
not  weakly  to  mercy,  but  for  God's  sake  not  leaning 
away  from  mercy."  Or  again,  as  he  said  in  a  civil  case, 
"  Throw  around  this  vessel  your  protecting  arms,  for  the 
commerce  of  our  America  goes  round  the  world  under  her 
radiant  ensign.  It's  a  Yankee  ship  and  a  Yankee  crew. 
I've  too  much  respect  for  the  forecastle  of  my  country  to 
credit  this  monstrous  story  (relied  on  by  the  other  side). 
He  !  this  man  !  lay  the  bones  of  his  vessel  bleaching  on 
the  beach  !  He'd  have  taken  his  gallant  little  craft  in  his 
arms  first  and  borne  her  to  the  ends  of  the  earth."  Or 
once  more,  "I  can  not  disguise  from  myself  the  apprehen 
sion  that  this  man  is  having  really  a  second  jeopardy  of  his 
life  and  honor.  Kemember,  gentlemen,  how  sacred,  how 
august  your  office  is.  You  will  guard  him,  I  know,  against 
this  strange  peril  in  an  Anglo-Saxon  kind — the  grievous 
wrong  of  a  second  trial  for  the  same  offense  !" 

It  has  always  been  the  talk  of  the  Bar  that  cases  are 


ICO          REMINISCENCES     OF     ft  U  F  U  S     C  HO  ATE. 

won  or  lost  long  before  the  argument.  And  undoubtedly 
the  generalship  of  the  case  in  its  progress  to  argument  is 
of  vast  consequence.  So  is  strategy  in  war  indispensable  ; 
but  of  what  avail  would  have  been  the  strategy  which  pre 
ceded  Solferino,  without  the  tactics  and  the  valor  of  that 
whole  summer's  day  of  fight  ?  Judges,  choked  with  law 
learning,  but  devoid  of  all  enthusiasm,  and  jurymen,  wise 
in  their  own  conceit,  have  entertained  the  belief  that  they 
really  decided  Choate's  cases  before  the  argument.  But  it 
was  all  a  mistake.  Consciously  or  unconsciously,  they  were 
made  to  change  front.  It  is  not  probable  that  Choate  often 
in  his  whole  lifetime  rose  to  address  a  jury  already  resolved 
to  give  his  side  their  verdict.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  he  did 
get  their  verdict,  in  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  his 
cases  ;  therefore,  of  course,  he  had  changed,  had  conquered 
them.  But  that  first  hour  was  the  entering  wedge  of  his 
attack.  Karely  in  the  whole  length  of  his  appeal  did  he 
rise  with  more  resolute  splendor  than  in  that  first  burst  ; 
that  first  outbreak  of  power  in  which  he  used  to  turn  so 
ashy  pale,  and  hurl  his  argument  home,  in  solid  intense 
mass  that  crashed  upon  the  ear.  After  that  climax,  his 
high- wrought  ecstasy  dropped  again  into  the  familiar  level 
of  his  speaking.  He  had  told  his  story;  he  had  dashed  his 
view  into  their  minds  with  all  the  illuminating  and  exag 
gerating  lightnings  of  his  portentous  passion.  Now,  he 
addressed  himself  to  details,  to  the  business  of  unfolding, 
applying,  and  bringing  up  the  evidence  in  support  of  his 
theory  of  the  case. 

It  has  been  said  by  an  able  authority,  himself  a  suc 
cessful  lawyer,  that  "  to  succeed  as  a  nisi  prius  lawyer  does 
not  require  the  highest  order  of  genius,  if  indeed  they  are 
compatible.  It  requires  a  certain  commonplaceness  of  mind 
and  pliancy  of  temperament  and  littleness  of  topic  and  ver- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     1(J1 

bosity  of  remark,  to  which  the  great  mind  with  difficulty 
stoops,  unless  disciplined  by  hard  necessity  and  laborious 
toil.  The  jury  advocate  must,  to  a  certain  extent,  be  a 
juggler,  if  not  a  mountebank  and  a  trickster.  Strangest 
.specimens  of  human  intelligence  sometimes  come  together 
even  in  our  metropolitan  jury  boxes.  The  greatest  triumph 
of  a  lawyer  must  ever  be  to  suit  himself  to  his  jury,  to  sur 
mount  their  whims,  and  to  avail  himself  of  their  preju 
dices."  But  the  same  authority  goes  on  to  observe  with 
equal  truth,  "  Of  all  these  little  arts,  as  well  as  the  noble 
science  of  the  forum,  Rufus  Choate  has  been  a  diligent 
student/' 

It  is  very  true  that  he  mastered  all  the  little  tricks 
and  little  topics,  as  well  as  the  grand  thoughts  and  logical 
combinations  b^  which  victories  are  won  upon  forensic 
fields.  As  he  had  studied  his  jury  till  he  knew  them  every 
one,  so  ho  would  say  something  to  hit  every  one.  To  his 
sharpened  vision  their  faces  were  as  glass.  He  read  their 
souls  through  that  glass.  And  as  reading  their  souls,  he 
proceeded  to  attack  them,  he  realized  the  picture  of  him  in 
his  full  action,  drawn  in  words  by  one  who  must  have  known 
him  well  ;  a  description  so  pertinent  and  good  that  it  can 
not  be  bettered.  "  While  pleading,  his  eye  flashes,  as  it  turns 
rapidly  from  the  court  to  the  jury,  and  the  jury  to  the  court; 
ever  remarking,  with  intuitive  sagacity,  the  slightest  traces 
of  emotion  or  thought  in  the  eye,  lip,  face,  position,  or 
movement  of  the  judge — ever  reading  the  soul  revealed  to 
him,  perhaps  to  him  alone,  and  comprehended  by  that  mys 
terious  sympathy  which  unites  the  orator  and  auditor,  as 
by  an  electric  atmosphere  through  which  thoughts  and  feel 
ings  pass  and  repass  in  silence  but  in  power,  Choate  is  aware, 
with  the  certainty  of  genius  and  the  rapidity  of  instinct, 
of  the  effect  he  has  produced  upon  the  judge,  whose  slight- 


162          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

est  word,  he  knows,  is  weightier  than  the  eloquence  of  coun 
sel  ;  and  at  the  first  slight  intimation  of  dissent,  rapidly, 
but  almost  imperceptibly,  modifies,  limits,  and  explains  his 
idea,  until  he  feels  the  concert  of  mental  sympathy  between 
mind  and  mind  ;  and  then  like  a  steed  checked  into  noble 
action,  or  a  river  rising  to  burst  over  its  barriers,  with  his 
mind  elevated  and  excited  by  opposition,  he  discourses  to 
the  jury  logic,  eloquence  and  poetry,  in  tones  that  linger  in 
the  memory  like  the  parting  sound  of  a  cathedral  bell,  or 
the  dying  note  of  an  organ.  His  voice  is  deep,  musical, 
sad.  Thrilling  it  can  be  as  a  fife,  but  it  has  often  a  plain 
tive  cadence,  as  though  his  soul  mourned  amid  the  loud 
and  angry  tumults  of  the  forum,  for  the  quiet  grove  of  the 
Academy,  or  in  these  evil  times  sighed  at  the  thought  of 
those  charms  and  virtues  which  we  dare  conceive  in  boy 
hood,  and  pursue  as  men — the  unreached  paradise  of  our 
despair." 

His  a  acting'"  during  the  argument,  both  in  his  own 
and  during  the  adverse  argument,  was  consummate.  He 
would  state  law  and  stretch  law  to  the  jury  to  the  utmost 
limit  to  which  the  court  would  suffer  him  to  go  without 
stopping  him.  If  at  last  interrupted  by  the  judge,  he 
would  turn  round,  still  talking  in  a  sort  of  moderate 
undertone  which  rendered  the  judge's  tone  inaudible  to 
everybody  but  him  ;  but  instantly  catching  the  idea  as  he 
saw  it  in  the  judicial  mind,  he  would  repeat  his  own  prop 
osition  in  different  language,  shading  it  so  imperceptibly 
that,  for  a  moment  after,  the  judge  could  not  tell  whether 
he  had  yielded  or  not ;  then  turning  with  a  gratified  look 
to  the  jury,  who  had  heard  hardly  a  word  of  the  colloquy, 
he  would  say,  "  I  have  the  honor  to  be  in  entire  accordance 
with  the  Court."  If  the  judge  was  still  dissatisfied,  and 
ventured  again  to  interrupt  him,  he  never  chafed,  but 


I 

REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   163 

changed  his  statement  again  •  and  if  driven  to  abandon  it, 
he  would  do  so  in  such  a  manner  that  no  one  but  the 
Judge  could  see  that  he  had  been  forced  to  give  up  his 
position  ;  and  if  that  very  judge  did  not  keep  a  bright 
lookout,  it  would  not  be  very  long  ere  the  dexterous  advo 
cate  would  wind  round  once  more  to  his  obnoxious  propo 
sitions,  and  display  them  again  in  strange  but  substan 
tially  similar  language. 

He  never  would  allow  the  jury  to  perceive  him  at  issue 
with  the  Bench.  Whatever  the  judicial  interruption  might 
be,  arid  no  matter  how  often  repeated,  he  was  always  good 
tempered  ;  yielding  when  he  could  not  help  it,  but  always 
parrying  or  dodging  the  blow  of  seeming  to  be  "corrected" 
by  the  court.  Let  the  judge  say  what  he  might,  he  would 
say,  "  Yes,  your  Honor/'  "Exactly/''  "Just  so/'  "  Precisely 
what  I  was  having  the  honor  to  remark/'  If  the  interrup 
tion  was  not  too  adverse,  he  would  often  contrive  to  turn 
it  into  what  would  actually  appear  to  the  jury  a  judicial 
endorsement  of  his  views. 

Sometimes  he  would  evade  a  shot  from  the  Court  by  his 
wit.  Thus  in  a  dangerous  case,  where  the  very  able  Judge 
of  the  United  States  District  Court  was  holding  the  term, 
Choate,  in  the  argument,  alluded  to  certain  rumors  as  set 
afloat  by  a  party's  enemies.  "  You  mustn't  assume  that, 
Mr.  Choate  ;  there's  no  evidence  that  he  has  enemies," 
interrupted  the  Court.  "  He's  in  large  business,"  said 
Choate,  "  and  must  have  made  foes."  "  There's  no  evi 
dence,"  replied  the  judge,  "  that  he's  in  business.  He's  a 
physician."  "  Well,  then,"  replied  Choate  instantly,  with 
a  roguish  smile,  "  he's  a  physician,  arid  the  friends  of  the 
people  he's  killed  by  his  practice  are"  his  enemies."  Peals 
of  laughter  followed  this  exploit  of  witty  logic,  in  which 
the  judge  heartily  joined,  and,  amid  all  the  noise  and  con- 


164  REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE. 

fusion,  he  was  able  to  get  on  with  his  argument  still  un- 
eorrected. 

Whenever  he  had  occasion,  in  his  address  to  the  Jury, 
to  speak  on  law  strictly,  independent  of  fact,  he  always 
turned  to  the  Court,  as  if  that  judge  before  him  must  be 
the  fountain  of  all  strictly  legal  learning. 

On  matters  of  law  he  always  spoke,  therefore,  with  great 
submission  to  the  Bench.  This  was  very  wise.  Judges  are 
always,  especially  with  us,  where  the  jury  engross  so  much 
of  the  deciding  power,  jealous  of  their  prerogative  ;  and 
matters  of  law  should  never  be  alluded  to  without  refer 
ence  to  the  court. 

He  spoke,  during  his  whole  argument,  from  a  ponder 
ous  pile  of  manuscript  scribbled  and  scrawled  over,  and 
crossed  and  cris-crossed,  as  if  it  were  a  stray  ream  of  paper 
over  which  a  nest  of  spiders  had  escaped  from  an  inkstand. 
This  he  termed  his  "brief."  As  it  was  all  written  in  his 
own  inscrutable  hand,  no  one  was  ever  let  into  the  mys 
teries  of  its  entire  contents.  There  it  was,  riddled  with 
lines  and  marks  of  emphasis  and  obliterations,  and  pieces 
wafered  on,  all  in  one  tangled,  magnificent  maze.  That 
and  his  signature  justified  fully  the  caricature  descrip 
tion  of  a  wag  :  "  The  autograph  of  Mr.  Choate  some 
what  resembles  the  map  of  Ohio,  and  looks  like  a  piece  of 
crayon  sketching  done  in  the  dark  with  a  three-pronged 
fork.  His  hand- writing  can  not  be  deciphered  without  the 
aid  of  a  pair  of  compasses  and  a  quadrant.7'  This  brief 
thus  written,  was  probably  a  perfect  Variety  Shop  of 
intellectual  wares.  It  was  not  the  notes  he  had  taken 
during  the  trial,  but  was  digested  and  deduced  from  them. 
It  probably,  to  his  eyes,  beamed  with  light  and  burning 
though  scattered  thoughts  which  he  had  jotted  down 
during  the  trial.  But  though  he  took  up  in  his  hand,  as 


REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.      165 

he  went  on,  sheet  after  sheet  of  this  manuscript,  yet  he 
rarely  seemed  to  look  at  it  with  any  but  the  most  casual 
glance  ;  and  often  he  would  go  on  for  half  an  hour  without 
referring  to  it  at  all ;  then  he  would  turn  over  and  lay 
down  twenty  pages  of  it,  to  find  the  place  to  which  he  had 
arrived.  It  all  seemed  to  be  lying  in  his  mind.  Indeed, 
he  has  told  me,  with  approbation,  of  the  way  Alexander 
Hamilton  prepared  his  argument  in  the  great  case  in  New 
York  which  settled  their  law  of  libel.  He  wrote  it  all  out 
the  night  before,  and  then  deliberately  tore  it  up.  Mr. 
Choate,  I  am  satisfied,  might  have  argued  his  case  in  most 
instances  if  his  brief  had  been  torn  up  or  stolen.  He  had 
a  marvelous  memory.  One  effort  of  composition  and  of 
committing  to  paper,  seemed  to  write  it  also  ineifaceably  on 
his  brain. 

I  have  spoken  of  his  treatment  of  interruptions  by  the 
judge.  To  an  adversary  interrupting  him,  he  was  always 
ready  to  reply,  and  he  bore  down  as  hard  as  lie  could  upon 
him.  An  interruption  from  that  quarter  always  chafed 
him  ;  and  he  resented  it  in  every  way,  except  by  impatience. 
Here  his  good  management  and  quickness  was  apparent. 
Often  the  counsel  interrupted  under  a  misapprehension  of 
the  precise  point  Choate  was  aiming  at  ;  still  more  often 
from  mistake  as  to  the  evidence  ;  for  Choate  himself  rarely 
was  in  error  in  his  evidence.  He  heightened  and  exag 
gerated  evidence,  but  never  falsified  it.  But  whether  well 
or  ill  founded,  an  interruption  to  his  fiery  course  galled  and 
worried  him.  The  sympathy  of  a  jury  is  always,  however, 
naturally  with  the  man  speaking,  not  with  the  man  who 
stops  him  ]  and  Choate  not  only  contrived  to  prevent  the 
adversary  from  making  any  thing  out  of  his  attempted  cor 
rection,  but  generally  contrived  to  make  a  positive  gain  for 
himself ;  for  he  made  the  jury  see,  without  his  saying  so; 


166      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  GATE. 

what  a  grievance  he  felt  it  to  be,  to  be  thus  checked  in  mid 
career  ;  and  unless  the  point  made  by  the  obstruction  was 
an  exceedingly  good  one,  the  sympathy  was  all  for  Choate. 
If  the  interruption  was  on  Evidence,  Choate  was  generally 
either  right,  or  so  nearly  so  that  nobody  could  tell  exactly 
whether  he  was  or  no.  If  counsel  threw  in  a  witticism  at 
his  expense,  Choate  was  instantly  ready  with  an  apt  retort 
— generally  courteous,  but  often  killing ;  for  the  move 
ments  of  his  mind  were  electric  flashes. 

Sometimes  during  an  attempted  interruption,  unless  it 
was  undertaken  with  coolness  and  decision,  he  would  go 
right  on  talking,  as  if  he  didn't  hear  or  care  for  the  call 
made  upon  him,  and  utterly  preventing  the  jury  from  ap 
prehending  the  point  attempted  to  be  made  by  his  enemy. 
Frequently  this  was  because  he  did  not  want  the  jury  to 
find  their  minds  diverted  from  what  he  himself  was  endeav 
oring  to  say  ;  not  because  he  feared  that  he  would  prove  to 
be  wrong.  If  the  adversary  went  on,  he  would  get  directly 
between  him  and  the  Jury,  his  broad  shoulders  seeming  to 
widen  like  a  wall  between  them,  and  raising  his  voice  in  a 
paroxysm  of  clamor,  would  crush  or  drown  the  compara 
tively  timid  foe.  But  if  still  resolutely,  the  correction  was 
insisted  on,  he  would  seem  to  assume  by  his  words  that  of 
course  he  must  be  right,  and  the  hindrance  was  a  trick,  an 
impertinence,  and  a  wrong.  "  One  at  a  time,"  he  would 
say.  "  Don't  talk  so  fast/'  "  I  have  the  floor."  "  I  pro 
pose  to  argue  my.  case!'  "  Will  my  brother  allow  me  to 
argue  my  case  ?"  Or  again,  when  the  cloud  raised  by  the 
interruption  was  a  little  cleared  up,  he  would  say,  with  a 
fine  promptness,  "  These  repeated  interruptions  only  afford 
me  a  new  opportunity  to  present  my  impregnable  case. 
It  will  tire  you,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury  ;  but  my  brother's 
interposition  renders  it  necessary."  Or  sometimes  he  would 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.       167 

say,  if  he  was  for  plaintiff  and  closing,  and  the  adversary 
was  very  persistent  and  troublesome,  "  If  you  propose  to 
argue  your  whole  case  over  again,  I  will  submit  it  to  the 
Court,  whether  you  shall  be  suffered  to  ;"  or  again,  "  I  know 
that  I  am  right.  I  have  most  carefully  collated  my  evi 
dence  last  night  and  this  morning.  I  know  I  am  right  ;" 
and  then,  adroitly,  "I  do  not  object  to  these  interruptions 
except  for  the  time  they  take  ;"  as  if  it  were  utterly  impos 
sible,  even  if  they  were  well  founded,  that  they  could  be 
good  for  any  thing,  or  able  to  help  so  bad  a  case  as  the  ad 
versary's. 

There  was  one  cool,  imperturbable  lawyer  of  the  Suf 
folk  Bar  who  was,  I  always  thought,  a  goad  in  his  side 
when  they  were  hostile.  He  was  as  cool  and  smooth  as 
marble  ;  he  could  not  be  put  down,  and  his  whole  manner 
was  as  superciliously  self-conceited  as  it  was  possible  to  be 
and  not  be  impertinent.  It  was  only  manner,  though,  for 
he  was  a  gentleman  at  heart ;  but  he  lacerated  Choate.  He 
would  rise  so  deliberately  in  the  midst  of  one  of  Choate's 
torrid  climaxes,  when  he  was  storming  and  fuming  and 
getting  the  Jury  under  complete  subjection,  and  with  a 
manner  so  sublimely  certain,  stop  this  express  train  of  fer 
vid  splendor  ;  and  then  state  his  objection  so  coolly  and  so 
exactly — for  he  had  the  great  power  of  statement — adjust 
ing  his  eye-glasses  all  the  while,  with  a  satirical  half-sneer 
on  his  hard  and  arrogant  lip.  It  was  like  the  spear  of  the 
hunter,  in  the  sides  of  the  plunging  and  racing  beast  of  the 
forest.  Sometimes  Choate  could  shake  him  off,  but  rarely. 
Generally  he  had  to  grapple  with  him  ;  and  then  the  fire 
would  flash  into  his  eyes,  as  he  would  take  hold  of  him ; 
and  com 3  down  with  some  scathing  repartee,  or  do  some 
queer  thing,  which  would  set  the  whole  house  in  a  roar. 
Once  I  saw  him,  when  a  third  time  challenged  thus  by 


168      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E . 

this  counselor,  come  to  a  dead  stop,  and  making  as  much 
fuss  as  possible,  to  mark  it  to  the  Jury,  said  he,  "  If  my 
Brother  proposes  to  argue  for  his  client  a  little  more,  I  will 
sit  down  and  wait."  And  sit  down  he  did  ;  but  instantly 
getting  up  again,  he  began  to  put  on  several  of  his  coats  ; 
diving  into  them  with  a  parade  of  energy  in  stopping,  and 
a  distressed  look,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  this  unnecessary  de 
lay  is  prodigious,  but  it  is  all  for  his  sake — he  is  the  cul 
prit  cause" — so  that  he  got  the  Bar  into  a  tumult  of  mirth. 
Meantime,  "  unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified,"  the  cause 
of  all  this  exhibition  had  been  steadily  fixing  his  eye-glass 
on  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and  calling  the  attention  of  the 
Court  to  the  evidence  ;  which,  he  insisted  upon  it,  was  mis 
stated.  On  this  occasion,  either  Choate  really  was  wrong, 
or  he  chose  to  abandon  the  particular  piece  of  evidence  in 
order  to  make  a  great  point ;  for  he  immediately  rose  and 
began  to  strip  again  ;  saying,  in  a  tone  which  multiplied  the 
laughing  tumult,  "  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  Why,  what  a  trifle  ! 
Ill  give  that  point  up,  and  let  my  Brother  have  it  just  as 
he's  a  mind  to."  It  may  be  imagined,  upon  this  ending  of 
so  great  a  fuss,  which  party  gained  the  most  by  the  inter 
lude. 

It  was  in  allusion  to  this  appearance  of  absolute  self- 
satisfaction  which  the  gentleman  who  was  the  lawyer  in 
this  case  uniformly  displayed,  that  a  story  was  for  a  long 
time  current  at  the  Bar,  whose  wit  was  attributed  to 
Choate.  For  it  was  said,  that  some  one  met  Mr.  Choate 
late  one  afternoon  revolving  round  the  Boston  Common, 
while,  crossing  it  diagonally  at  the  same  time,  was  the 
aforesaid  counselor,  moving  with  placid  satisfaction. 
"  What  do  you  think  our  friend  there  is  thinking  of  ?" 
said  the  third  party  to  Mr.  Choate.  "  Well,  I  should 
imagine,"  replied  Choate,  speaking  slowly — "  I  should 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   169 

imagine,  from  his  air  and  manner,  that  he  could  be  think 
ing,  at  this  moment,  of  nothing  else  but  the  question, 
whether  God  made  him,  or  he  made  God."  This  story 
ran  current  in  Court  Street  for  a  long  time.  I  do  not 
vouch  for  its  truth,  but  probably  there  are  many  who 
would. 

Sometimes  Choate  had  the  judge  fairly  and  flatly  on  his 
side  in  his  argument  of  a  cause,  and  received  aid  and  com 
fort  from  him.  This  was  not  often,  but  when  it  was  so, 
he  made  a  vast  parade  of  it.  No  Median  or  Persian  fiat  was 
ever  more  decisive  than  this  intimation  of  judicial  appro 
bation  ;  as  he  then  represented  it  to  the  jury. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  when  Court,  counsel,  fact, 
every  thing  was  against  him,  and  when  any  other  man 
would  have  been  utterly  floored  and  extinguished  for  the 
moment  by  the  shock  of  an  unfortunate  misstep  in  argu- 
111  ent,  Choate  stood  immovable.  His  gloomy  face  would 
grow  paler,  not  gloomier  ;  but  he  would  get  out  of  the 
difficulty  with  unabashed  effrontery  and  unfailing  resource. 
One  of  these  scenes,  which  I  happened,  to  witness,  was  so 
characteristic  that  I  sketched  it  for  a  newspaper  at  the 
time  as  follows  : 

"  A  curious  mischance  happened  to  Mr.  Choate  on 
Wednesday,  in  the  trial  of  his  insurance  cause,  with  Mr. 
Hillard  on  the  other  side.  He  had  been  arguing  with  un 
usual  vehemence  and  labor  that  the  other  side  didn't  dare 
ask  their  witnesses  about  the  stowing  and  arrangement 
of  vessels  loaded  with  grain,  as  respects  sea  worthiness, 
although  they  made  a  great  show  of  asking  them  about 
vessels  generally.  l  Name  one  witness/  he  thundered  out 
over  the  meek  head  of  Mr.  Hillard,  the  opposite  counsel ; 
£  Name  one.  I  should  like  to  hear  of  one  to  whom  they  ask 
the  question  as  to  grain  laden  vessels/  Mr.  Hillard  quietly 

8 


170  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

said,  c  Captain  testified  in  answer  to  inquiry  upon 

that  very  point/  '  Impossible/  said  Mr.  Choate  ;  '  I  care 
fully  collated  my  notes  of  evidence  last  night,  and  I  know 
there  isn't  one.'  After  this  brief  but  emphatic  denial,  he 
was  rushing  on  in  the  fiery  tide  of  his  usual  lightning-like 
style  of  advocacy,  when  he  was  stopped  by  Mr.  Hillard's 
quietly  appealing  to  the  Court  as  to  the  truth  of  his  having 
named  one  witness  who  swore  directly  in  the  teeth  of  what 
Mr.  Choate  was  saying.  The  advocate  stopped  in  mid 
career,  evidently  impatient  as  a  racer  curbed,  to  hear  the 
Judge  ;  who,  turning  to  his  minutes,  read  in  plain  language 
the  statement  of  the  witness  as  expressing  the  closest  and 
most  deliberate  opinion  expressly  with  regard  to  grain  ves 
sels.  A  general  titter  began  to  prevail,  and  'what  the 
speaker  could  say  now/  was  the  universal  feeling  ;  pausing 
a  moment.,  and  giving  that  peculiarly  solemn  expression  of 
face  which  those  who  are  familiar  with  him  so  well  recog 
nize,  the  great  advocate  broke  the  silence  by  the  simple 
question,  twice  repeated,  as  if  to  the  judge,  but  really  to 
the  jury,  '  Does  that  witness  say  liow  many  grain  vessels 
his  experience  embraces  ;  liow  many,  is  the  important 
point.  I  am  arguing  that  the  experience  of  persons  experi 
enced  chiefly  in  grain  vessels  is  not,  and  dare  not  be,  asked 
by  the  other  side  /  and  saying  this  with  great  soberness  and 
without  a  muscle  of  his  rigid  features  changing,  he  turned 
the  attention  of  the  jury  ;  and  rapidly  rushing  into  another 
part  of  the  argument,  it  was  found  that  he  had  led  them 
jind  the  minds  of  the  auditors  off  from  the  desperately  bad 
break  in  the  link  of  his  argument,  before  they  had  time  to 
decide  whether  it  really  was  true  that  Mr.  Choate  had 
Mien  into  a  blunder  not  more  overwhelming  than  it  was 
laughable.  Anybody  else,  after  such  a  preceding  nourish  of 
trumpets,  to  have  been  so  floored,  would  have  been  utterly 


REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.          171 

extinguished  by  the  unanimous  mirth  of  Bench  and  Bar. 
It  is  due,  however,  to  Mr.  Choate  to  say  that  he  very 
rarely  makes  such  a  trip  or  is  so  put  to  his  trumps  to  re 
cover  himself." 

If  he  was  interrupted  in  an  unimportant  point — unless 
he  thought  it  would  distract  the  jury  from  attending — he 
would  make  much  parade  of  acquiescence.  "  I  desire  to  be 
fair.  I  believe  you  are  right,  sir — quite  right.  I  submit 
to  my  Brother's  correction/'  he  would  say.  To  be  cor 
rected,  never  troubled  him  merely  because  he  was  proud  of 
being  right.  He  WSLS  troubled  only  because  he  was  afraid 
of  its  effect  on  the  jury.  He  was  far,  very  far  above  the 
small  vanity  so  conspicuous  in  his  great  rival  for  American 
forensic  fame,  William  Pinkney.  Pinkney  would  even 
swell  and  domineer  if  he  was  disputed  as  to  an  authority 
which  he  quoted  in  respect  merely  to  its  position  on  the 
page.  He  said  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
on  such  an  occasion,  "  Send  for  the  book ;  and  now,  before 
I  open  it,  I  will  tell  your  Honors  not  only  the  exact  author 
ity,  but  the  exact  place  of  the  authority  as  it  stands  on 
the  page,  and  the  page  itself  with  equal  exactness."  The 
book  was  brought,  and  it  was  all  even  so.  But  Choate 
never  would  have  done  this.  He  would  have  preferred 
even  to  appear  in  the  wrong  about  an  unimportant  point, 
if  only  to  save  a  brother  lawyer  from  mortification.  He 
had  hardly  any  pride  of  opinion.  He  cared  for  victory,  not 
opinion. 

But  I  have  seen  him,  when  attention  was  diverted  from 
the  current  of  his  talk  to  the  Jury  by  an  unseemly  dis 
turbance  of  an  outsider,  seem  very  savage  and  stormy. 
Once,  in  a  great  Patent  case,  the  opposite  party  to  the 
suit,  an  elderly  man,  sat  some  little  distance  behind  him 
with  his  counsel.  During  all  Choate's  unusually  brilliant 


172  REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

argument — for  the  achievements  of  great  inventors  always 
inspired  him — this  adverse  gentleman  kept  up  a  constant 
but  subdued  derisive  chuckle  ;  and  at  length,  at  a  grand 
burst  of  enthusiasm  and  spasm  of  gesture  in  the  advocate, 
he  laughed  quite  audibly.  Choate  was  just  sweeping  his 
doubled  fist  about  his  head,  his  eyes  glancing  flame,  and 
screaming  out,  "  I  tell  you,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  as  the 
great  Italian  artist  said,  glowing  with  the  consciousness  of 
commensurate  genius,  i  We  also  are  painters' "  —when  he 
heard  the  laugh.  Hardly  finishing  his  sentence,  he  turned 
directly  upon  the  chuckling  enemy  with  both  fists  clenched 
and  as  much  figlit  in  his  face  as  was  ever  seen  there  ;  he 
advanced  upon  him  two  or  three  steps  scowling  terribly, 
till  he  fairly  quailed  under  the  broadside  of  his  fierce 
glance.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  in  slow,  measured  words,  every 
syllable  of  which  was  a  volley,  "fat  him  laugh  who  wins." 
The  man  seemed  to  shrivel  up  under  the  fire  and  the 
glance.  There  was  no  more  outside  laughter  in  that  case, 
and — Choate  won. 

When  he  was  for  the  defendant,  and  therefore  made  the 
fiist  of  the  closing  arguments,  he  was  quite  fair  about  in 
terrupting  the  other  side  in  their  final  argument.  But 
when  he  was  in  this  position  of  speaking  first,  he  always 
reminded  his  adversary  if  he  undertook  to  correct  him, 
that  he  had  the  close  upon  him  ;  and  he  very  much  pre 
ferred  to  have  his  errors  corrected  in  the  closing  argument, 
and  not  by  frequent  interruption.  He  probably  knew  it 
was  not  likely  the  counsel  would  ever  recollect  it  after 
wards,  or>  if  he  did,  would  present  it  as  forcibly  as  it  could 
be  put  at  that  instant.  But  if  the  opponent  was  too  wary, 
and  wanted  the  Court  to  see  the  correction  made  now , 
Choate  would  sigh  out  with  a  tone  of  deprecating  sadness, 
"  I  have  no  chance  to  reply  on  him !  and  my  brother  is  de- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE.   173 

termined  that  my  unhappy  client  shall  not  even  have  his 
case  fairly  presented/' 

While  the  adversary  was  closing  upon  him,  he  always  sat 
by  and  watched  him  during  all  the  address.  Although  his 
own  active  part  was  done,  yet  he  never  left  to  his  junior 
the  task  of  following  the  current  of  the  enemy's  state 
ment.  Wrapped  up  in  his  coats,  he  sat  still,  apparently 
with  no  solicitude  ;  never  indulging  in  the  cheap  trick  of 
belittling  the  adverse  argument  by  sneering  or  smiling 
contemptuously.  He  seemed  to  assume,  by  his  manner, 
that  although  this  was  an  able  argument  which  they  were 
now  hearing,  yet  he  had  placed  his  own  case  so  beyond  the 
reach  of  danger  that  he  could  listen  to  it  unmoved.  If  he 
interrupted,  he  did  it  decidedly,  but  modestly.  And  if 
the  opponent  grew  restive,  as  a  half-timid  advocate  gen 
erally  will,  he  would  mutter,  audibly,  he  "  supposed  his 
brother  tmshed  to  get  the  evidence  right."  As  much  as  to 
say,  that  if  he  didn't  wish  him  to  correct  the  error  it  would 
be  the  Jury's  and  the  Court's  loss,  not  Mr.  Choate's. 

The  Material  of  this  great  advocate's  argument,  was  a 
mysterious  consolidation  of  the  most  dogmatic  and  positive 
assertion,  the  closest  logic,  the  dryest  law,  the  most  glit 
tering  poetry,  the  most  convulsive  humor,  fired  up  by  an 
enthusiasm  uninterrupted  and  contagious.  In  the  first 
place,  he  constantly  put  himself  into  the  jury-box,  as  it 
were  ;  that  is,  he  constantly  made  a  sort  of  confidant  of 
each  juryman.  He  abounded  in  expressions  like  these  : 
"  Now,  Mr.  Foreman,  what  should  you  think  of  such  a 
proposition  ?"  "  You  see,  gentlemen,  here's  the  exact 
pinch  ;"  or,  "I  thought  I  wouldn't  read  all  this  letter  to 
you  ;  but  perhaps  it  would  be  fair,  and  you'd  like  to  hear 
it."  "  I  want  you  to  explore  these  letters  with  me,  for  I 
think  that" — running  his  eyes  along  their  faces  with  a  very 


174          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

significant  look  of  mischief—"  I  think  that  it  will  pay." 
All  sorts  of  familiar  colloquialisms  were  ready  at  his  hand, 
and  he  used  them  freely;  shooting  them  across  the  pictur 
esque  web  of  his  rich  and  recondite  language  and  allusion. 

Scarlett,  Lord  Abinger,  was  altogether  the  greatest  jury 
advocate  in  England  of  modern  times  ;  as  far  as  regards  the 
mere  winning  of  cases,  and  gaining  of  juries.  He  addressed 
them  in  a  very  simple,  easy,  confidential  sort  of  a  way, 
never  rising  above  a  conversational  tone.  He  would  ridi 
cule  an  overwhelming  case  out  of  Court.  He  would  .rise  in 
the  face  of  a  perfectly  conclusive  showing  on  the  other  side, 
and  with  unblushing  effrontery  say,  "  Why,  gentlemen,  my 
case  is  clear  •  you  are  not  to  be  deceived  by  this  labored  and 
specious  pleading  on  the  other  side."  Inasmuch  as  he 
leveled  himself  right  down  to  each  juryman,  he  flattered 
and  won  them  ;  and,  it  was  said,  he  won  because  there 
were  twelve  Sir  James  Scarletts  in  the  box. 

Although  Choate  began  his  great  arguments  in  a  con 
versational  way,  and  had  a  basis  of  conversational  mannei 
in  all  he  said,  yet  it  was  by  a  very  different  style  of  ad 
dress  from  Scarlett  that  he  contrived  to  produce  the  same 
result  of  getting  himself  "into  the  box."  But,  certainly, 
he  did  often  produce  the  result  of  making  the  individual 
Jurymen  feel  as  though  he  was  sitting  with  them,  man  to 
man,  face  to  face,  and  talking  it  over.  Intermingled  with 
all  his  elevated  literary  topic  in  argument,  there  was  so 
much  that  was  homely,  so  much  that  was  direct,  so  much 
that  took  right  hold  of  the  bosoms  and  business  of  men, 
and  it  was  given  to  them  in  such  a  friendly  and  fraternal 
spirit,  that  if  there  were  not  twelve  Bufus  Choates  in  the 
box,  there  was  something  better — a  Eufus  Choate  in  front 
of  them,  who  seemed  a  most  influential  and  advising  friend 
of  their  Jury  family. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.      175 

In  his  whole  jury  appeal,  there  was  nothing  more  won 
derful  to  the  professional  eye  than  his  speech  directly  upon 
the  Evidence,  and  his  comment  on  the  Witnesses.  Neither 
his  oriental  ecstacy  of  eloquence,  his  remorseless  grasp  of 
the  whole  mass  of  detail,  his  consummate  learning  in  the 
law,  all  which  were  displayed  here,  in  any  degree  surpassed 
his  transcendent  talent  for  marshaling  the  evidence,  and 
discussing  the  witnesses. 

He  had  every  part  and  parcel  of  the  Evidence  in  his 
mind,  and  knew  its  precise  relation  and  bearing  ;  then  he 
would  take  the  most  trifling  and  unimportant  single  cir 
cumstance  which  had  been  sworn  to,  and  putting  this  and 
that  together,  and  revolving  every  minute  particle  of  tes 
timony  a  long  time,  and  with  vast  variety  of  phrase  and 
illustration,  and  interweaving  and  piecing  out  with  little 
scraps  of  inference  and  fact,  he  managed  to  weave  and 
plaster  together  a  firm  foundation,  where  no  human  being 
but  he  would  ever  have  found  a  footing.  Then  in  weaving 
and  massing  together  these  threads  of  facts,  he  held  stead 
fastly  before  him  ever  the  grand  central  figure  upon  which 
they  were  to  fit — the  hub  around  which  all  were  to  revolve 
— the  theory  upon  which  his  whole  case  went.  He  never 
had,  like  some  weak-minded  advocates,  several  theories  : 
each  to  bo  used  in  case  of  need  in  any  new  pinch  of  the 
case  ;  he  had  one  theory — one  central,  commanding  theory 
— -and  all  the  evidence  squared  and  dovetailed  into  and 
upon  this  one  ruling  center,  which  commanded  like  a  sen 
tinel  every  particular  and  every  portion  of  the  whole 
variegated  field. 

And  against  the  view  or  the  successive  propositions 
which  he  presented,  he  always  asserted  there  was  not  "  the 
shadow  of  a  shade  of  testimony  ;"  he  would  repeat  often, 
and  with  vehement  positiveness.  such  expressions  as  "  There 


176         REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

is  not  a  scrap  of  evidence  which  negatives  this  ;  no.,  gentle 
men,  not  a  scintilla  of  evidence/'  "  Scrap"  and  "  scintilla" 
were  famous  words  of  his,  as  applied  to  evidence. 

He  exhibited  great  power  of  expanding  and  magnifying 
a  little  "bit  of  evidence  into  importance,  by  dividing  it  and 
subdividing  it  and  talking  on  each  head.  If,  for  example, 
his  proposition  is  something  which,  simply  said,  would  riot 
be  very  impressive,  but  he  has  no  better  ammunition,  he 
talks  about  its  belongings  and  incidental  considerations 
and  hypothesis  and  details  ;  till  having  enforced  these  so  as 
to  make  an  impression,  doubtful,  perhaps,  but  favorable, 
he  comes  by  successive  risings  to  the  real  gist  and  weight 
of  the  matter,  by  a  slowly-  reached  climax.  The  art  on 
which  Cicero  lays  much  stress,  namely,  that  of  exaggerat 
ing,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  of  belittleing  and  extenuat 
ing  the  weight  of  testimony,  he  wielded  most  skillfully  ; 
and  displayed  wonderful  fertility  and  invention  in  the  ex 
hibition. 

If  there  were  several  considerations  which,  when  taken 
independently,  would  not  be  very  forcible,  he  would  throw 
them  in  as  reasons  why,  if  nothing  else,  "  the  burden  of 
proof"  already  lying  on  the  other  side,  should  be  severely 
enforced  and  exacted. 

Sometimes  he  would  make  a  great  parade  and  repetition 
and  enforcement  of  a  simple  and  comparatively  unimportant 
item  ;  thus,  in  a  Patent  case,  the  elementary  idea  that  one 
inventor  shall  not  monopolize  all  invention,  I  heard  him 
repeat  in  different  words,  successively,  six  times.  Again,  I 
remember  a  single  short  sentence  of  four  or  five  words  upon 
which  he  wished  to  fasten  the  jury's  mind  ;  he  repeated  it 
right  over  and  over  three  times  ;  laying  the  emphasis  each 
time  on  the  word  succeeding  the  one  he  had  before  em 
phasized. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    177 

His  analysis  and  subtle  refinement  in  discriminations 
was  marvelously  acute  ;  lie  so  analyzed  and  refined,  as 
almost  to  re-create  ;  and  the  clearness  and  cogency  with 
which  he  made  these  minute  and  shadowy  differences  plain 
to  the  most  ordinary  apprehension,  was  by  no  means  the 
least  wonderful  of  his  accomplishments.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  was  equally  potent  in  seeing  through,  and  break 
ing  down  the  opponent's  nicely  accumulated  analogies. 

In  a  Power  Loom  Patent  case,  the  adversary  had  argued 
that  because  several  delicate  parts  of  the  rival  machines 
looked  like  each  other,  their  original  ideas  were  similar, 
and  therefore  there  was  an  infringement.  "As  soon,"  said 
Choate,  ridiculing  the  model  introduced  to  show  this,  "  as 
soon,  go  to  the  graves  of  the  buried  dead,  and  taking  a 
little  dust  from  this  one  and  a  little  dust  from  that  one, 
present  them  on  paper,  and  argue  from  their  similarity  a 
likeness  of  the  bodies  to  which  they  belonged  in  life." 

In  his  whole  management  of  the  minute  details  of 
evidence  I  think  it  would  be  generally  conceded  by  the  ad 
mirers  of  both,  that  he  was  decidedly  superior  to  Webster. 

Mingle  in  now  with  this  masterly  maneuvering  of  de 
tails,  constant  appeals  to  sympathetic  feelings  ;  constant 
touches  upon  all  that  lies  latent  in  man's  nature  of 
warmth  and  the  holy  traditions  of  youth  ;  constant 
addresses  to  the  waste  of  passions  that  lie  grand  and 
gloomy  on  all  but  the  most  shallow  souls  ;  and  you  can 
form  some  conception  of  that  portentous  power  which  he 
wielded  ;  and  which  made  him,  as  the  lec^rned  Professor 
Greenleaf  said,  before  a  Jury,  "  more  terrible  than  Webster." 

His  discussion  of  the  Witnesses  themselves  personally, 
was  striking,  cunning,  convincing.  If  he  wished  to  break 
a  witness  in  the  confidence  of  the  jury,  he  made  no  direct 
assault  upon  him  ;  that  would  have  boon  a  bungling  and 

8* 


178         REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    C  HO  ATE. 

often  an  ineffectual  proceeding.  No,  he  described  the  wit 
ness  generally,  remarking,  perhaps,  that  it  was  of  very 
little  consequence  whether  he  was  believed  or  not ;  but 
then  he  would  go  on  to  insinuate  rather  than  express  a 
thousand  disparagements.  These  were  often  well  deserved, 
but  they  would  not  have  taken  effect,  unless  uttered 
adroitly  and  rather  indirectly.  All  through  this  discussion 
of  the  comparative  merits  of  the  rival  witnesses  on.  both 
sides,  especially  if  they  contradicted  each  other,  he  would 
exalt  or  overcolor  his  own  witnesses,  and  undercolor  the 
adversary's.  "  You  could  not  fail  to  observe,  Gentlemen  of 
the  Jury,  the  manliness,  the  manifest  willingness,  the 
straightforward  story  of  our  six  witnesses  to  this  point, 
all  of  them  honorable  men  ;"  "I  do  not  wish  to  defraud 
my  Brother  of  his  witnesses'  character,  but  one  could  hardly 
fail  of  observing  their  apparent  indifference  to  the  solemnity 
of  their  oath,  their  swiftness  of  reply  when  he  questioned 
them,  their  slowness  when  we  did/''  "  I  pass  no  judgment, 
but  I  put  it  to  you  whether  you  saw  honesty  written  fairly 
on  their  foreheads/'  This  line  of  observation  was  frequent, 
although  the  two  rival  bodies  of  witnesses  were  to  the  dis 
interested  spectator  seemingly  of  equally  fair  manner.  It 
is  not  probable  that  Mr.  Choate  ever  in  these  instances 
deliberately  proposed  to  blacken  an  innocent  witnesses's 
character  ;  but  he  was  so  identified  with  his  own  side,  that 
every  thing  adverse  seemed  to  him  discolored  with  evil,  and 
he  showed  great  rhetorical  ability  in  disposing  of  witnesses 
without  directly  damning  them. 

His  speeches  to  the  Jury  abounded  in  the  most  dogmatic 
assertion  ;  before  he  had  spoken  fifteen  minutes,  he  had, 
according  to  his  own  showing,  utterly  disposed  of  and  an 
nihilated  his  adversary's  case  ;  again  and  again  he  had 
said,  "  This  consideration  puts  an  end  to  their  case  ;"  yet 


REMINISCENCES     OF     11UFUS     C  HO  ATE.  179 

lie  went  on,  although,,  as  it  would  seem,  sublimely  conscious 
that  the  remaining  six  hours  of  his  talk  must  be  mere  sur 
plusage.  His  practice  often  exemplified  the  truth,  that 
the  mere  statement  boldly  and  confidently  made,  that  your 
case  is  good,  is  influential  with  the  jury  ;  but  when  he  had 
piled  up  dogmatism  and  proof  and  passion  all  together,  he 
would  add,  "  But  this  is  only  half  my  case  ;  I  go  now  to 
the  main  body  of  my  proofs." 

He  always  spoke  with  a  rapid  and  overpowering  rush 
of  words  and  thoughts.  As  he  dashed  on  in  his  argument, 
in  pointing  to  and  taking  up  papers,  models,  books  ;  in 
turning  to  the  Judge  or  the  Jury ;  in  his  under  tones  to  his 
associate  counsel ;  in  his  whole  mental  or  bodily  movement ; 
there  was  prodigious  velocity,  yet  perfect  time  and  com 
posure  ;  his  mind,  in  fact,  moved  at  this  fearful  rate  natur 
ally — it  was  as  rapid  as  consistent  with  sanity.  In  the  at 
tempt  to  keeep  pace  with  him,  reporters  have  often  thrown 
down  their  pens  in  utter  hopelessness  ;  in  the  same  fruitless 
attempt  to  keep  up  with  his  own  thought,  his  own  pen 
would  fly  over  the  paper  in  a  long  wavy  unintelligible  line, 
which,  after  a  week  had  elapsed,  he  could  hardly  decipher 
himself.  Some  one  said  of  him  with  great  propriety,  if  the 
magnetic  telegraph  were  affixed  to  his  lips,  the  words  would 
heap  upon  the  wires. 

His  enunciation  was  in  a  rapid  and  uninterrupted  flow, 
and  his  sentences,  though  finished  with  the  most  perfect 
accuracy,  were  long  and  often  involved  ;  and  for  this  reason 
it  would  be  difficult  for  any  reporter  to  keep  pace  with  him. 
But  a  still  greater  difficulty  was  in  his  power  to  magnetize 
his  auditors,  and  make  them  oblivious  of  every  thing  else 
while  the  spell  of  his  eloquence  was  upon  them.  The  story 
of  the  short-hand  writer  who  wras  employed  to  report  one 
of  his  arguments  is  scarcely  an  exaggeration.  Soon  aftei 


180          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

the  argument  was  commenced  it  is  said  he  dropped  his 
pencil,  and  remained  gazing  at  the  advocate  till  he  had 
closed.  When  called  to  account  for  his  neglect  to  make 
the  report,  he  asked,  "  Who  can  report  chain  lightning  ?" 
A  grave  lawyer  who  heard  him  for  the  first  time  when  he 
delivered  his  address  before  the  New  England  Society  at 
New  York,  in  which  he  uttered  the  famous  expression,  "  a 
church  without  a  Bishop,  and  a  State  without  a  King/'  re 
marked  that  it  was  different  in  kind  from  any  thing  he 
ever  heard  before.  "  It  was,"  said  he,  "  a  series  of  electric 
shocks,  and  we  couldn't  keep  our  seats.  We  kept  clap 
ping  and  cheering  without  being  conscious  of  it." 

It  seems  strange  that  a  mind  so  compact  and  compre 
hensive  as  his  was,  should  have  expounded  his  views  to  the 
jury  in  arguments  uniformly  of  great  length.  If  any  man 
could  put  fact,  poetry,  passion  into  condensed  masses  of 
sentences,  he  eminently  could  ;  but  he  preferred  to  talk  on 
and  talk  on,  always,  though,  talking  to  the  point.  When 
you  thought  he  had  exhausted  his  theme,  and  exhausted 
himself,  he  would,  as  it  were,  recommence  with  the  remark, 
"  But,  gentlemen,  this  is  not  half  the  strength  of  my  argu 
ment."  Barely,  however,  if  ever,  did  his  jury  get  tired  of  him . 
I  have  known  men  say  at  the  conclusion  of  three  days'  speak 
ing  by  him,  "  Our  only  regret  was  that  he  stopped."  Though 
he  could  cover  an  equally  wide  plane  of  philosophic  specu 
lation  with  Edmund  Burke,  yet  he  rarely,  like  him,  laid 
himself  open  to  the  sarcasm,  that  he  "  went  on  refining 
when  they  thought  of  dining."  But  still  it  may  be  ques 
tionable  whether  he  did  not  speak  too  long.  It  resulted 
from  his  anxiety  to  cover  every  possible  point,  clear  up  or 
cloud  every  possible  difficulty;  and  in  doing  so  he  pre 
sumed  upon  great  ignorance  to  start  with  in  his  Jury. 

When  Pinkney  had  argued  a  day  in  the  United  States 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUH     CHOATE.  181 

Supreme  Court  on  the  simplest  principles  of  elementary 
law,  the  Chief  Justice  blandly  remarked  to  him  as  they  were 
gathering  together  their  papers  for  adjournment,  "  Mr. 
Pinkney,  there  are  some  things  that  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  United  States  are  presumed  to  know."  Very  few 
things  indeed,  however,  did  Rufus  Choate  assume  that  his 
jurors  were  presumed  to  know. 

His  whole  theory  of  argumentation  was  the  exhaust 
ive  one;  to  exhaust  every  possible  line  of  thought  directly 
bearing  on  his  theory.  Webster,  on  the  contrary,  used  to 
group  and  select  the  witnesses  to  whom  he  would  allude, 
and  on  whom  he  relied  ;  he  put  their  words  into  a  single 
mass  of  testimony,  and  hurled  it  home  in  comparatively 
few  sentences ; — few,  but  thunderbolts.  As  he  came  on,  all 
would  be  dark  where  Webster  advanced,  save  as  his  bolts 
of  thunder  struck  and  illumined  ;  Choate,  on  the  other 
hand,  advanced  with  a  diversified  but  long  array,  which 
covered  the  heavens  ;  thunderbolts  volleying,  auroras  play 
ing,  and  sunlight,  starlight,  and  gas  light  shooting  across 
the  scene  in  meteoric  radiance. 

I  do  not  think  his  audience  in  a  Court  room  had  any 
perceptible  effect  on  him  in  speaking;  any  more  than  a 
vast  array  of  spectators  to  a  grand  battle  would  have  in 
fluence  on  the  mind  of  the  Generals  in  command  ;  he  was 
fighting  liis  battle  ;  and  he  thought  not  of  observation, 
but  of  victory.  In  this  how  different  he  was  from  Erskine 
or  Pinkney !  But  Choate  lived  in  a  region  of  thought  im 
measurably  above  vanity  ;  he  was  proud, — I  have  some 
times  thought  him  very  proud, — but  he  never  for  an 
instant  surrendered  to  self-consciousness  or  conceit. 

He  often  used  his  audience  nevertheless;  but  it  was  by 
moving  them  to  demonstrations  of  applause  or  mirth, 
which  should  act  involuntarily  on  the  jury.  We  are  all 


182  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

human,,  even  when  trying  to  be  judicial;  and  the  spectacle 
of  a  crowded  court  room  manifestly  delighted  with  a  senti 
ment,  would  send  it  home  to  the  breasts  of  the  Twelve  with 
redoubled  power.  So  he  used  his  audience  to  deepen  his 
impression  ;  they  were  the  deep  pedal  which  he  pressed, 
when  he  wanted  his  instrument  to  strike  the  diapason  of 
a  mightier  music.  But  their  presence  did  not  yield  him 
any  stimulus  ;  not  into  their  eyes  did  he  look  for  sympa 
thetic  homage  ;  into  the  Jury's  eyes  alone,  he  bent  all  his 
most  passionate,  most  wooing,  and  stormiest  glances. 

He  always  in  his  speaking  not  only  talked  to  some 
specific  verdict  or  point,  but  he  also  talked  to  some  par 
ticular  person  or  persons.  He  said  to  me  often,  "  This 
standing  up  and  addressing  a  crowd  vaguely,  an  undefined 
mass,  nobody  in  particular,  and  wheeling  on  the  heel, 
looking  about  from  side  to  side,  can  not  be  the  thing  ;  it 
is  no  better  than  standing  up  and  fiddling/'  Therefore  he 
always  said,  "  Talk  to  somebody."  Accordingly,  in  his 
own  practice,  he  would  stare  down  into  the  eyes  of  th^ 
gaping  jury  with  a  basilisk  glare;  and  sometimes  in  a 
speech  on  the  platform  he  would  fix  his  eyes  so  intently 
on  a  person  or  squad  of  persons  that  it  would  be  very 
marked.  I  have  known  him  to  turn  his  impassioned  glance 
of  fire  on  a  front  seat  full  of  people,  and  rush  forward  to 
the  edge  of  the  stage  as  if  ho  would  transfix  them  with  a 
gesture  and  a  look;  so  that  they  absolutely  started  back 
from  those  frenzied  eyes  with  a  momentary  terror. 

It  would  be  well  if  public  speakers  would,  in  some 
degree,  advert  to  this  example.  Ministers  especially  lose 
half  their  efficiency  by  talking  vaguely  in  the  air,  as  if 
they  were  addressing  shadows,  not  sinners. 

As  will  be  seen  in  Mr.  Choate's  conversations  hereafter, 
so  also  in  his  Addresses,  his  classics  played  a  most  impor- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     IIUFUS     CHOATE.  18J 

tant  part  ;  he  would  levy  on  his  Greeks  and  Koinans  for 
illustration  with  much  freedom ;  but  he  seemed  to  have  the /'L 
whole  realm  of  Antiquity  under  fee  to  his  mind;  the  words* 
of  the  ancients  were  as  much  his  own  as  the  words  of  mod 
erns.     Under  what  instantaneous  command  he  had  the 
classic  wealth  of  story,  and  how  felicitously  he  used  it, 
will  appear  by  the  following  anecdote  related  by  an  emi 
nent  politician  who  was  present  on  the  occasion  of  its  oc 
currence  :— 

"In  the  winter  of  1850,  a  large  party  was  given  in 
Washington,  and  many  illustrious  personages  were  pres 
ent,  who  have  since,  like  Mr.  Choate,  gone  down  to  the 
grave  amid  the  tears  of  their  countrymen.  The  Senate, 
at  that  time  worthy  of  the  name,  was  well  represented  on 
this  occasion  of  festivity,  and  the  play  and  airy  vivacity  of 
the  conversation,  with  '  the  cups  which  cheer  but  not  in 
ebriate/  relaxed  at  intervals  even  senatorial  dignity. 
During  the  evening  the  subject  of  c  Young  America'  was 
introduced,  his  waywardness,  his  extravagance,  his  igno 
rance  and  presumption.  Mr.  Webster  observed  that  he 
hoped  the  youth  would  soon  come  to  his  senses,  and  atone, 
by  the  correctness  of  his  deportment,  for  his  juvenile  dis 
sipation.  At  the  same  time  he  added  that,  in  his  opinion, 
the  only  efficient  remedy  for  the  vice  and  folly  of  the  lad 
would  be  found  in  early  religious  training,  and  stricter 
parental  restraint.  Mr.  Choate  declared  that  he  did  not 
view  the  hair-brained  youth  in  the  same  light  with  his 
illustrious  friend  ;  that  every  age  and  country  had,  if  not 
their  '  Young  America/  at  least  something  worse.  The 
character  of  Trajan,  the  best  and  purest  of  Roman  emper 
ors,  said  he,  was  unable,  with  all  its  virtue  and  splendor, 
to  check  the  '  Young  Italy'  of  that  day.  Our  lads  would 
seem  to  have  sat  for  the  picture  which  has  been  drawn  of 


io4    REMINISCENCES     OF     II  UF  U  S     C  HO  ATE. 

the  Roman  youths  by  the  hand  of  one  who  seldom  colored 
too  highly  :  f  Statim  sapiunt,  statim  sciimt  omnia;  nemi- 
nem  verentur,  imitantur  neminem,  atque  ipsi  sibi  exempla 
sunt' — which,  translated,  reads  thus  :  '  From  their  cradles 
they  know  all  things,  they  understand  all  things  ;  they 
have  no  regard  for  any  person  whatever,  high  or  low,  rich 
or  poor,  religious  or  otherwise,  and  are  themselves  the  only 
examples  which  they  are  disposed  to  follow/  Mr.  Benton 
thought  the  quotation  too  happy  to  "be  genuine,  and  de 
manded  the  author.  Mr.  Choate,  with  the  utmost  good 
humor,  replied  that  his  legal  habits  had  taught  him  the 
importance  of  citing  no  case  without  being  able  to  give  his 
authorities  ;  he  called  for  the  younger  Pliny,  and  triumph 
antly  showed  the  passage,  amid  the  admiration  of  that 
brilliant  assembly,  in  the  23d  letter  of  the  8th  book  of  the 
younger  Pliny  !  Our  informant  remarks  that  the  history 
of  literature,  perhaps,  can  not  show  an  equally  felicitous 
quotation." 

Myriads  of  examples  might  be  cited  of  Mr.  Choate's 
prompt  fertility  of  classic  illustration  in  Court.  I  remem 
ber  a  Patent  cause,  where  he  was  exhibiting  a  model  of  a 
ship  to  a  jury.  After  exhausting  the  description  of  the 
parts,  he  stopped  ;  then  glancing  at  the  Foreman,  he  said 
quickly,  "But  why  do  I  talk  of  these  things  so  minutely 
to  you  ?  it  is  like  talking  on  ivar  before  Hannibal ;"  an 
allusion,  it  will  be  seen,  to  a  beautiful  passage  in  Cicero's 
"  De  Oratore." 

He  once  commenced  a  legal  address  thus,  "  In  the  lan 
guage  of  the  Greek  epigram,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury/'  etc. 
What  the  Greek  epigram  was,  that  jury  of  hard-fisted  fel 
lows  knew  no  more,  than  they  knew  what  the  stars  were 
made  of. 

In  the  famous  Shaw  Case  vs.  The  Worcester  Railroad, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   185 

one  of  the  witnesses,  named  Colonel  Rice,  testified  that  the 
wagon  containing  the  party  who  were  struck  by  the  loco 
motive,  came  on  at  a  steady  pace  till  close  by  the  track, 
where  the  horse  stopped  ;  "  Yes,"  said  the  witness,  "  the 
horse  stopped ;  the  horse  thought" — "  Wait  a  moment," 
broke  in  the  rich  voice  of  Mr.  Choate,  and  rising,  he  ad 
dressed  the  Bench,  "  May  it  please  your  Honor,  Homer 
tells  us  in  the  e  Iliad'  of  the  dogs'  dreams  ;  but  I  prefer 
better  authority  than  Colonel  Rice's  for  the  horse's  thoughts. 
I  object  to  the  statement ;"  and,  amid  much  laughter,  it 
was  ruled  out. 

He  showed  in  his  argument,  when  he  closed  a  case, 
that,  in  the  progress  of  the  cause,  nothing,  not  the  slight 
est  thing,  had  escaped  him.  He  had  watched  every  face  in 
the  panel ;  he  had  watched  the  countenance  of  the  Court ; 
he  had  watched  the  successive  witnesses — every  decided 
look,  or  tone  or  demonstration  which  any  of  these  person 
ages  of  the  drama  gave,  he  remembered.  Many  a  juror 
has  been  astonished  to  hear  him  in  his  argument,  days 
after  the  occurrence,  refer  to  an  expression  of  satisfaction 
which  he  had  given  at  a  particular  phase  of  the  trial.  So 
whatever  slight  signals  the  judge  held  out,  of  the  way  he 
meant  to  rule  or  the  leaning  of  his  feelings  in  any  manner, 
was  carefully  noted  by  his  unerring  eye,  and  made  use  of, 
either  in  introducing  evidence  to  meet  it,  or  in  argument 
to  propitiate  it.  His  mind  vast,  delicate  and  minute,  held 
the  whole  case  in  distinct  view,  no  matter  how  long  it  took, 
and  fastened  in  turn  upon  every  part  of  it — the  historic, 
the  personal,  the  legal  aspects  all  alike — and  grasped  them 
all  at  will,  touching  them  in  their  exact  relations  as  a  great 
master  would  touch  with  sure  vision  the  manifold  keys  of 
a  grand  and  complicated  instrument. 

There  was  no  shriek  of  passion,  no  keen  thrust,   no 


186          REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

seeming  digression,  no  splendid  apostrophe  that  was  not 
expressly  meant  for  an  object.  It  hit  somebody,  or  meant 
something.  Not  a  floral  word,  not  a  logical  inference  was 
uttered  by  him  that  did  not  tell  somewhere.  For  a  man 
of  so  much  inflammation,  this  was  marvelous. 

In  a  succeeding  chapter  will  be  found  a  critical  descrip 
tion  of  his  Eloquence  ;  but  one  or  two  singularities  peculiar 
to  his  Court  room  speaking  may  be  mentioned  here.  He 
employed  two  extraordinary  instruments  of  gesture — his 
nase  and  his  heels  ;  as  he  closed  an  intense  and  long  burst 
of  passionate  periods,  he  would  straighten  up  before  the 
jury,  his  head  go  back  and  erect  itself  like  the  crest  of  a 
serpent,  and  then  he  would  draw  in  the  whole  volume  of 
his  breath  through  his  large  nose,  with  a  noise  heard  all 
over  the  Court  room  ;  and,  singular  to  say,  this  strange 
noise,  so  far  from  being  laughable,  was  most  emphatic. 

As  he  stood  there  before  them,  with  his  dark  Norman 
face,  his  thick  curving  eyebrows,  his  square-built  frame 
and  stature,  and  strong  countenance,  so  adapted  for  tragic 
effect ;  the  French  fire  of  a  chivalric  enthusiasm  dancing  in 
the  eyes  so  deep  with  passion  ;  and  looking  reckless  and 
defiant ; — as  thus  armed,  he  paused  with  a  firm  toss  of  his 
proud  head  backwards,  and  making  this  singular  noise, 
seemed  to  snuff  the  air  with  dilated  nostril,  he  looked  as 
beautiful  and  as  formidable  as  the  wild  leopard  of  the 
jungle  crouching  for  the  deadly  spring.  Then,  when  he 
wished  to  double  and  redouble  the  force  of  his  expression, 
he  would  close  his  sentence  by  coming  down  on  his  heels 
with  a  muscular  rigidity,  which  absolutely  would  shake  the 
whole  Court  room. 

In  allusion  to  this,  I  remember  hearing  one  of  his 
aged  antagonists  begin  his  speech  to  the  Jury  by  saying, 
•'  I  care  not  whether  my  brother  Choate  'in  his  eloquence 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   187 

takes  the  roof  off,  or  breaks  the  floor  down,  I  shall  go  on 
to  set  out  the  evidence  calmly,  etc." 

Choate  had  also  a  queer  way  of  shaking  himself  up, 
as  it  were,  in  the  progress  of  a  speech.  If  he  found  himself 
lagging  in  ardor,  he  would  give  two  or  three  tremendous 
emphases,  accompanying  them  with  a  convulsive  jerk  of 
his  whole  body,  which  would  seem  to  shake  every  bone  in 
him  in  its  socket,  and  every  rag  of  clothing  on  him  out  of 
its  place.  Then,  fired  up  by  this  stimulating  spasm,  like 
a  fighter  cheering  for  a  charge,  he  would  dash  on  with  a 
wild  barbaric  ardor  ;  then  came  the  moments  in  which  he 
looked  absolutely  savage  ;  the  tame  man  became  a  wild 
animal  then. 

I  have  seen  him  almost  transfigured  in  his  appearance, 
and  swept  utterly  out  of  the  range  of  common  thoughts. 
I  do  not  think,  at  such  moments,  that  for  single  instants 
he  knew  anybody,  or  took  in  with  his  eye  any  intelligent 
vision  ;  he  was  wrapped  up  and  lost,  as  one  in  a  trance. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  great,  impassioned,  imaginative 
orators,  are  in  their  climax  moments  in  a  sort  of  trance 
state,  a  state  of  utter  absorption  of  isolation  from  earthy 
scenes  and  spots  ;  such  as  the  elder  Booth,  when  he  would 
not  die  in  Kichard  III.,  but  chased  Kichmond  out  of  the 
window  of  the  theater ;  or  Mrs.  Siddons,  with  her  dress 
ing  room  door  open  facing  the  stage  between  the  acts,  that 
the  illusion  of  the  scene  might  not  for  an  instant  pass  off 
from  sole  possession  of  her  mind.  When  Kean  played 
Shylock,  he  was  Shylock  ;  and  a  voice  in  the  pit  was  heard 
in  a  smothered  shriek,  saying,  as  the  flames  mounted  to  his 
eyes,  "Let  me  out — it  is  the  devil ;"  so  I  have  seen  Choate 
raving  away  before  a  jury,  and  before  four  thousand  peo 
ple,  spell-bound  himself,  and  enchanting  them  into  a  will 
ing  submission  to  his  sway. 


188      REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS    CHOATE. 

His  hand  played  a  great  part  in  his  dramatic  effects ; 
it  trembled  and  vibrated  as  he  extended  his  arm,  more  vio 
lently  and  nervously  than  the  hand  of  any  other  orator 
who  ever  spoke  in  America.  Mr.  Everett  occasionally  .ex 
hibits  this  tremble,  and  did  it  with  great  effect  in  the  cli 
max  sentence  of  his  eulogy  on  Mr.  Choate,  when  he  spoke 
of  his  "  imperial  clarion  ;"  but  even  then  the  audience  of 
Faneuil  Hall  saw  nothing  like  the  furious  nervousness  of 
movement,  which  they  have  often  seen  in  the  waving  of 
Choate' s  almost  unhinged  hand  and  fingers. 

Mr.  Choate's  voice  was  not  so  good  for  halls  as  it  was  for 
Courts  ;  generally  in  them,  he  was  not  loud  ;  but  in  great 
moments  he  was  extremely  loud  ;  his  voice,  then,  like  Chat 
ham's,  rang  out,,  and  through  the  green  doors,  and  into  the 
lobbies,  and  down  the  stairs  ;  and  many  a  time  I  have 
known  he  was  speaking  in  the  Court  Eoom  long  before  I 
had  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  stone  stairs  which  led  to  it. 

Into  every  portion  of  a  case,  whether  trivial  or  serious, 
he  infused  the  same  wild,  Saracenic  ardor ;  but  especially 
and  a  thousand  times  multiplied,  into  the  final  argument. 
He  was  full  of  what  the  men  of  Magenta  called  "  elan" — 
dash  and  rapture.  No  matter  how  dry  and  meager  the 
facts,  how  hopeless  of  adornment  the  issue,  it  was  all  poet 
ized  to  him  by  its  relation  to  his  battle.  It  might  be  an 
outpost,  it  might  be  a  slight  engagement  on  the  distant 
wings,  but  it  was  all  his  battle. 

When  the  great  Napoleon,  in  his  letters  to  his  brother. 
King  Joseph,  says,  amid  his  thoughts  of  empire,  "'Be  care 
ful  of  those  shoes  I  sent  you  for  the  army  of  Spain  ;  they 
cost  me  so  much  apiece.  They  are  well  soled,  and  the 
upper  leather  strong,"  this  dry  detail  is  as  interesting  to 
the  imperial  writer  as  the  direction  to  advance  a  column, 
for  both  alike  are  his  movements  of  battle,  both  are  of  his 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  189 

apparatus  of  victory.  So  to  this  wild  and  wonderful  man, 
the  Napoleon  of  the  Courts,  the  simplest  transaction,  the 
most  lowly  words,  assumed  the  place  in  his  battle  speeches 
of  epic  incidents  and  lyrical  expressions. 

Mr.  Choate  had  in  his  own  nature  the  enthusiasm  of 
poetry  and  of  passion  both.  Poetical  and  cultivated  people 
are  nothing  before  a  practical  Jury  ;  but  even  ignorant 
people,  inspired  with  passion,  are  always  efficient  with 
them.  But  when  both  are  combined,  poetry  and  passion 
together,  they  domineer.  Men  must  yield  in  virtue  of  their 
inborn  sympathies  and  sensibilities ;  more  particulaely  if 
both  passion  and  poetry  are  regulated  by  common  sense. 

In  life  Mr.  Choate  did  not  always  exhibit  good,  plain 
common  sense  ;  but  in  dealing  with  his  jury  he  always  did. 
At  the  funeral  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  Bar  for  him,  Gov 
ernor  Banks,  a  member  of  that  Bar,  expressed  the  opinion 
that  at  the  basis  of  all  Mr.  Choate's  dazzling  intellectual 
displays  was  a  foundation  of  solid  Saxon  common  sense. 
And  it  was  so,  or  he  never  could  have  manipulated  Yankee 
juries  as  he  did.  The  marvel  and  the  miracle  was  to  see 
this  common  sense  blend  with  and  support  such  magical 
improvisations,  such  transporting  raptures.  Talma,  the 
great  French  actor,  said  that  in  his  plays  he  saw  not  the 
people,  saw  not  the  coroneted  boxes  of  the  imperial  family ; 
for  as  he  walked  upon  the  scene  of  his  tragedy,  the  colors 
of  things  grew  red  and  bloody  ;  and  around  the  tiers  of 
galleries  he  seemed  to  see  skulls  and  death  heads  crowded 
and  grinning.  Even  thus  changed  and  transfigured  was 
all  the  scene  of  his  action  to  this  great  actor  of  whom  I  am 
speaking.  Not  that  he  saw  such  tragic  images  as  these ; 
but  he  doubtless  saw  for  a  moment,  in  the  glory  of  his 
passion,  glimpses  of  hands,  and  caught  snatches  of  sounds, 
the  offspring  of  his  own  unearthly  imagination  ;  yet  at  a 


190  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

moment,  at  an  interruption  by  the  Court,  at  an  expression 
of  distrust  shooting  across  a  face,  he  would  come  back  to 
real  life,  and  come  down  to  plain  fact  and  take  a  new  start 
again  on  common  sense  ground  ;  dispose  of  the  difficulty  ; 
and  sweep  even  more  victoriously  on  from  this  fresh  foun 
dation,  into  his  glittering  realm  of  thought.  Common 
sense  was  the  basis  of  his  thoughts  and  of  his  talk.  He 
was  full  of  sentiment  and  of  womanliness,  but  he  was  far 
from  being  a  sentimentalist. 

To  listen  to  one  of  his  Jury  appeals  was  a  very  great 
pleasure  to  any  man,  but  to  an  intellectual  man,  it  was  a 
treat  of  the  rarest  delight ;  to  trace  the  literary  allusions, 
to  remark  the  significant  sentences  which  he  threw  off, 
modeled  on  famous  sentences  in  Antiquity ;  to  feel  the 
charm  of  the  luxuriant  language,  to  catch  the  impulse  of 
his  whirlpool  of  thought,  and  to  know  all  the  time  that  all 
this  was  shaped  by  a  guage  and  rule  of  exactest  applica 
tion  ;  and  then  to  bend  before  the  witchcraft  of  his  man 
ner,  your  mind  fascinated  by  the  jugglery  of  his  art,  and 
your  senses  yielding  to  all  the  varied  sorceries  of  his  speech. 
This  to  a  mere  looker  on  was  an  epicurean  banquet.  To 
a  lettered  mind,  a  speech  of  Choate's  suggested  a  thousand 
associations  and  references  of  beauty  and  of  power ;  the 
scenes  of  history  over  which  our  hearts  gave  their  young- 
tears  ;  the  memorable  thoughts  of  ambition  ;  the  grand 
sentiments  speaking  of  all  that  is  noble  and  admirable  in 
man,  which  have  survived  time  ; — all  these  and  such  as 
these,  were  often  on  his  tongue  ;  the  treasures  of  litera 
ture,  the  grace  of  thought,  the  kindling  allusion,  the  start 
ling  illustration,  all  combined  to  create  the  charm  of  his 
enchanting  rhetoric. 

It  is  true  he  did  not  argue  many  great  cases,  but  he 
made  many  little  cases  great ;  and  many  little  men  tern- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.      191 

porarily  great.  You  would  be  in  a  small  dull  Court  Koom, 
in  a  dry  and  petty  case  ;  lie  spoke — and  the  scene  lifted  and 
opened,  as  if  the  walls  were  hanging  curtains  rolling  up  at 
the  bidding  of  a  magic  tongue  to  let  you  see  the  scenery 
of  enchantment  all  around.  To  how  many  country  Juries 
innocent  of  all  liberal  thoughts,  has  he  given  the  vision  of 
strange  stars  ;  he  has,  indeed,  by  the  whirl  as  well  as  the 
elevation  of  his  thoughts,  made  many  a  country  Justice  see 
stars;  and  driven  him  to  think  amid  the  intellectual  cor- 
ruscations  that  the  end  of  the  world  had  now  almost  come. 

To  a  professional  mind,  the  spectacle  of  his  forensic 
speeches  was  of  heightened  beauty,  from  the  manifest  grasp 
of  the  whole  case  which  every  division  of  the  speech 
showed.  A  professional  observer  would  appreciate  the 
bearing  and  relation  of  every  part  of  the  fabric  ;  and  thus 
would  feel  a  pleasure  beyond  even  the  gratification  derived 
from  the  rhetoric  and  the  enthusiasm. 

Still,  to  be  fully  appreciated  by  anybody,  I  think  Mr. 
Choate  should  have  been  heard  more  than  once  ;  his  style 
was  so  extremely  peculiar,  that,  like  Pinkney,  you  were  at 
first  a  little  repulsed,  and  did  not  feel  all  his  charm  ;  his 
ungainly  action  and  unearthly  screams,  his  jumping  up 
and  down,  his  labyrinthine  sentences,  perplexed  and  often 
baffled  your  criticism,  till  he  had  been  heard  often. 

Of  course  he  was  imitated.  Superficial  observers  were 
caught  by  his  velocity,  his  vociferation,  his  verbiage,  his 
sing-song  tone,  his  queer  manners,  his  twistings  of  face, 
his  rolling  gait  and  various  awkwardnesses,  not  less  than 
by  the  beautiful  luxuriance  of  his  curly  locks,  and  his  fin 
gers  ever  tossing  them  into  admired  disorder.  Many  of 
these  traits  would  have  been  fatal  to  anybody  else  ;  but 
he  put  upon  them  the  indescribable  stamp  of  his  own  great 
originality,  and  converted  them  into  elements  of  fascina- 


192          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

tion.  Caught,  however,  by  the  fantastic  outside  expres 
sions  of  the  rare  genius  within,  young  men  copied  his  ways  ; 
but  only  to  excite  mirth  in  proportion  to  the  perfection  of 
the  counterfeit.  Wherever  Choate  had  been  in  his  Court 
circuit,  you  could  often  follow  his  track  by  the  confused 
and  tangled  heads  of  his  copyists,  their  solemnly  owl-like 
looks,  careening  shoulders  and  canting  intonations.  An 
old  Judge  said  once,  contemplating  these  phenomena,  that 
Choate  had  quite  ruined  the  manners  of  the  young  Bar. 
One  young  man,  I  remember  particularly,  threw  himself 
his  hair  and  his  voice  about  with  such  a  mimicry  of  the 
Choatean  caprices,  as  to  provoke  the  just  criticism,  that  he 
exhibited  "  the  contortions  of  the  Sybil  without  any  of 
the  inspiration." 

It  never  seemed  to  me  that  Mr.  Choate  set  much  value 
on  Eloquence  as  an  instrument  of  parade  or  display.  The 
epidictic  branches  of  oratory  he  did  not  cultivate  ;  he 
valued  eloquence  as  a  means  to  an  end,  not  an  end  in 
itself.  The  rapt  pleasure  of  utterance  was  not  necessary  to 
him  ;  he  could  have  gained  as  much  pleasure  in  himself 
and  his  mind,  in  other  ways  ;  but  he  looked  to  oratory  as 
an  instrument  of  power ;  an  instrument  for  wielding  and 
applying  his  vast  intellectual  resources.  It  was  its  impe 
rial  quality,  not  its  aesthetic  quality  that  he  admired  ;  hence 
it  happened  that  he  cared  little  for  Platform  repute  ;  but  if 
he  lost  a  great  case,  it  made  him  almost  sick.  Not  to  de 
light,  but  to  delight  in  order  to  conquer,  was  his  desire. 

What  to  him  was  it  that  fine  gentlemen  said  he  was  un 
couth  !  or  that  as  he  rushed  about  in  his  speaking  with  his 
thumbs  in  the  arm-holes  of  his  vest,  snarling  critics  said 
he  seemed  like  a  wild  animal  in  convulsions  !  He  cared 
not ;  he  held  in  his  right  hand  fortune  or  poverty  fox  clients 
who  worshiped  him  as  a  god  ;  and  he  could  give  honor  and 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.   193 

life,  or  dishonor  and  death  to  the  objects  of  his  favor  or  his 
frown.  What,  therefore,  cared  he — the  Monarch  of  men's 
destinies  in  the  Courts — for  the  captious  or  the  applauding 
criticism  of  parade  orators,  who  knew  nothing  of  war  ? 
Theirs  was  the  Dorian  mood  of  soft  recorders  ;  his  the 
proud,  broken  strains  of  the  charge  and  the  march.  His 
sentences  were  trained  to  keep  step  to  the  music,  not  of  the 
field  but  of  the  fight.  And  what,  even  also,  if  he  had  lost 
posthumous  fame  ?  He  walked  through  life  encompassed  by 
admiring,  supplicating, — nay,  even  cringing  tributaries.  No 
power  on  earth  is  more  despotic  than  that  which  the  great 
first-class  lawyer  has  for  the  time  being,  over  all  within 
his  sphere  ;  his  word  is  law,  his  acts  the  salvation  of  his 
clients,  his  fiat — destiny.  Hardly  does  the  Third  Napoleon 
sit  in  his  imperial  robes  more  truly  throned,  than  did  Eufus 
Choate  in  his  old  gray  coat,  sit  in  the  center  of  his  Court 
Room  empire,  extending  to  all  who  had  the  happiness  to 
depend  on  him,  grace  and  gladness  with  a  princely  be 
nignity 

His  cases  were  his  life  and  his  horizon.  Every  day  he 
was  absorbed  in  somebody's  business  beside  his  own.  He 
thought  with  that  client,  felt  for  him,  and  identified  him 
self  utterly  with  his  fortune,  regardless  of  every  thing  else 
beside  ;  that  client  and  that  case,  to  his  eyes,  temporarily 
eclipsed  the  whole  world.  In  these  law  scenes,  therefore, 
he  seemed  to  have  an  artificial,  but  yet,  for  the  time,  a  real 
existence.  Daily  a  new  case,  new  client,  and  new  witnesses 
surrounded  him  ;  and  daily,  like  a  voyager,  he  sailed  away 
into  the  new  clime  of  a  new  case,  with  new  people  and 
new  talk.  His  powers  of  concentration  and  imagination 
were  so  great  that  this  was  almost  literally  true  of  him; 
he  stayed  at  home,  but  traveled  through  all  the  ranks  and 
scenery  of  humanity.  In  allusion  to  this  entire  surrender 

9 


194  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

of  himself  to  his  legal  scene,  some  one  wittily  said,  "  Choate 
is  rarely  Choate,  and  he  don't  know  himself,  when  he  gets 
up  in  the  morning,  who  lie  is  to  be  ;  but  he  takes  up  his 
papers,  looks  in  the  glass,  and  says  to  himself,  '  Am  I  Mr. 
A  or  Mr.  B  to-day  ?'  and  not  until  he  has  scrutinized  his 
brief  does  he  know  how  to  baptize  himself  for  that  day ; 
then  he  is  that  person  whom  he  undertakes  to  be." 

It  used  to  be  a  subject  of  profound  wonder  to  me,  to  see 
him  toiling  and  trying  so  mightily  from  day  to  day  for 
comparatively  little  remuneration,  and  on  little  themes. 
Had  he  picked  his  cases,  he  would  have  made  more  glory 
and  more  money,  with  less  labor  ;  but  I  soon  found  that 
action,  tireless  and  ceaseless,  was  the  law  of  his  being  ; 
that  this  incessant,  and  unflagging,  and  diversified  toil,  was 
the  necessity  of  his  nature.  Now,  he  no  longer  labored  for 
renown  ;  he  had  gained  all  his  renown  at  fifty.  Nor  could 
he  be  thought  to  labor  necessarily  for  money,  for  it  is  be 
lieved  he  left  a  respectable  property  ;  but  he  labored  for 
labor,  and,  in  his  later  years,  for  that  chiefly.  When  he 
had  finished  a  great  case,  and  everybody  was  tired  out,  and 
the  jury  that  tried  it  was  obliged  to  be  dismissed,  Choate 
would  turn  right  round  to  the  other  jury  and  open  a  new 
case  to  them  of  equal  magnitude  and  demanding  an  equal 
strain  upon  his  powers,  with  all  the  freshness  of  a  new 
comer. 

I  do  not  think  he  died  of  labor.  He  neither  wore  out,  or 
rusted  out :  he  died  of  an  acute  disease. 

His  esprit  de  corps,  in  regard  to  his  professional  prac 
tice,  was  chivalric  :  utterly  bound  up  as  he  was,  in  victory 
in  his  own  causes,  still  he  would  sacrifice  a  client  and  his 
own  argument  rather  than  leave  an  associate  lawyer  in  a  bad 
position  before  the  jury  and  the  world.  I  remember  one 
case  especially,  a  criminal  case,  when  his  junior  got  into  a 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  195 

disagreeable  fuss  with  the  Court,  and  with  a  witness  also. 
Choate  told  me  he  disapproved  of  his  junior's  course  of 
action  ;  "  but/'  said  he,  "  I  would  not  for  the  world  have 
left  him  in  the  lurch,  and  I  spoke  as  if  I  concurred  with 
him,  although  I  weakened  myself  before  the  jury  by  do 
ing  so."  On  another  occasion,  when  a  young  lawyer  was 
attacked  rather  severely  by  an  official  high  in  the  admin 
istration  of  the  criminal  law  of  the  Commonwealth,  his 
senior  associate  was  not  thought  by  the  Bar  to  have  stood 
by  him  so  promptly  and  gallantly  as  he  might.  A  long 
time  after  the  occurrence  Mr.  Choate  showed  reluctance  to 
promote  the  good  fortunes  of  that  gentleman,  the  senior 
alluded  to ;  and  being  pressed  for  a  reason,  said  to  me, 
"  The  only  thing  in  the  world  I  have  against  him  is  that 

he  didn't  stand  by  his  own  junior  against  Mr. ."     He 

had  nothing  to  do  with  the  case  himself,  but  thus  long 
and  seriously  had  he  treasured  up  the  memory  of  regret, 
for  this  neglect  on  the  part  of  one  of  the  members  of  his 
cherished  profession. 

But  few,  comparatively,  of  his  legal  arguments  have 
been  preserved.  He  was  extremely  reluctant  to  aid  in 
their  preservation.  In  the  great  Quaker  case,  in  the  fall 
of  1852,  which  filled  Boston  with  broad  brims  and  brown 
coats,  one  of  the  Quaker  gentlemen  was  resolved  to  get 
Choate's  speech  and  keep  it.  He  employed  a  phonograph- 
is  t,  and  when  the  report  was  ready,  he  took  it  to  Mr. 
Choate,  and  telling  him  how  important  the  Quaker  frater 
nity  considered  it,  asked  him  to  correct  it  as  he  would 
wish  it  to  stand.  Choate  took  it.  When  the  gentleman 
called  for  it  he  had,  of  course,  accidentally,  mislaid  it.  The 
applicant  knew  his  man,  and  drawing  forth  another  copy, 
"  Well,  then,  Mr.  Choate,"  said  he,  "I  have  two  more, 
and  if  you  don't  correct  it  it  shall  be  published  just  as  it 


196    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

is."  Mr.  Choate  looked  up  laughingly.  "  You  liave  in 
deed  !  Why,  then,  let  me  have  it  and  I  will  correct  it." 
He  took  it,  and  when  the  Quaker  called  again,  he  liad  not 
lost  it.  Thus  it  was  that  that  report  happens  to  be  now 
in  existence. 

Yet  it  is  quite  impossible  to  convey  in.  type  the  notion 
of  how  he  said,  what  he  said.  The  story  is  well  known  of 
Lord  Chatham  in  Parliament,  beginning  a  speech  with 
"  Sugar,  Mr.  Speaker  ;"  the  House  laughed — the  great  man 
looked  around  and  repeated  the  word  "  Sugar"  with  such 
effect  that  when  at  the  third  time  he  threw  his  bold  glance 
upon  them  and  exclaimed,  "  Who  will  laugh  at  Sugar 
now  ?"  not  a  man  moved  a  muscle — they  sat  transfixed  and 
awed.  I  saw  Mr.  Choate  do  something  like  this  once  in 
court.  He  had  been  uttering  a  most  extravagant  simile, 
with  passionate  intensity,  when  the  other  party  slightly 
smiled.  Choate  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  threw 
back  his  head,  and,  still  standing  square  to  the  jury,  re 
volved  his  blazing  eyes  back  a  little  over  the  scene.  "  Ah/' 
said  he  with  distended  nostrils  and  fierce  energy,  "no  one 
laughs  !  no  one  laughs  !  Such  is  my  cause  ;  it  carries  all ! 
No  one  laughs  '"  and  his  resolute  eyes  swept  the  scene 
with  commanding  glance.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  no  one 
did  laugh.  He  himself  was  pale  as  death. 

But  such  effects  as  these  can  only  be  alluded  to,  not 
described.  You  can  tell  when  and  how  the  lightning 
struck.  No  one  can  paint  the  burning  bolt  in  its  descent. 

His  greatest  figures  and  images  he  often  used  more  than 
once,  at  long  intervals  ;  and,  like  the  oft-repeated  good 
things  in  the  rhetoric  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  they 
improved  on  each  repetition. 

But  there  was  one  phrase  which  always  and  everlast 
ingly  appeared,  no  matter  whom  he  was  addressing  :  that 


>^WcH 


REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS    CHOATE.          197 


was  the  phrase,  "  I  shall  have  the  honor  to  submit  to  you," 
or,  "  I  was  having  the  honor,"  or,  "  I  was  about  to  have 
the  honor,"  etc.  This  honorable  phrase  was  repeated  and 
re-repeated  everlastingly.  Doubtless  it  often  had  no  in 
considerable  effect  on  weak  and  silly  men,  easily  flattered. 

No  professional  description  of  this  gentleman  ought  to 
close  without  alluding  again  and  again  to  his  benignant 
temper.  In  fifteen  years  I  never  saw  him  really  enraged ; 
never  heard  him  utter  a  petulant,  ill-natured  word,  nor 
make  a  malicious  remark.  He  had  charity  for  all  men. 
And  the  daily  spectacle  of  his  saintly  serenity,  sweetened 
all  the  Courts  through  which  he  revolved. 

Driven  to  death  by  business,  literally  hunted  from 
Court  to  Court,  and  street  to  street,  and  into  his  library, 
and  almost  into  his  bed,  by  besieging  parties  with  their 
suits  and  their  thoughts  ;  sick  himself  half  the  time,  from 
over-pressure  of  work  ;  still  he  went  patiently  and  quietly 
on,  always  at  top  speed — never  "in  a  hurry  ;"  like  the 
stars,  which  haste  ,not  and  rest  not,  but  shine  on  for  ever. 
If  you  went  into  his  office  to  consult  him,  no  matter  how 
deeply  busy  he  was,  he  received  you  always  kindly  and  de 
liberately  ;  never  snarled  or  snapped  at  any  interruption  ; 
and  though  perfectly  simple  and  guileless  in  his  manners, 
impressed  his  visitor,  in  five  minutes,  with  the  conviction 
that  this  was  a  great  man  before  him. 

I  think  his  loss  will  be  felt  by  the  Bar  who  were  his 
companions,  and  the  youth  who  were  his  worshipers,  more 
and  more,  for  many  years.  He  and  Webster  were  the  two 
most  signally  marked  men  in  genius  and  in  physiognomy 
that  New  England  has  ever  given  to  the  Union.  I  have 
studied  their  heads  and  faces  when  they  were  alive,  and 
were  sitting  together,  in  Court  and  in  private  :  since  both 
are  dead,  I  have  studied  their  busts  and  pictures  in  close 


198   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

proximity  ;  and  certainly  there  was  far  more  similarity  in 
them  than  would  readily  be  supposed.  Their  counte 
nances  were  of  similar  complexion  ;  the  large,  strong  nose 
very  much  alike  ;  the  eyes  essentially  similar — Choate' s 
larger,  "but  with  very  much  the  same  look  as  Webster's 
when  he  opened  them  wide  ;  the  head  not  very  dissimilar, 
save  in  the  fact  that  Webster's  was  wide  across  the  front, 
Choate' s  deep  from  front  to  back  of  the  ear  ;  in  each, 
therefore,  the  same  spaciousness  of  the  brain  chamber, 
though  gained  in  a  different  way  ;  and  both  of  them,  in 
the  midst  of  all  their  splendor,  were  dark,  somber,  solemn 
men. 

Choate's  mouth,  however,  and  chin  were  entirely  dif 
ferent  from  Webster's,  and  he  had  the  air  of  a  more  pensive 
person.  But  a  sight  of  him,  in  action,  was  worth  a  very 
long  journey.  I  think,  if  Thorwaldsen  could  have  seen 
the  head  and  the  picture  of  Choate  as  he  saw  that  of 
Webster,  in  the  beauty  and  the  literalness  of  sculpture, 
he  would  have  been  filled  with  a  similar  .astonishment. 

His  genius,  so  rare,  so  great,  so  precious,  ought  not  to  be 
forgotten.  Erskine  still  speaks  in  England  to  his  brethren 
of  the  Bar,  in  his  full-length  statue  ;  and  if  Eufus  Choate 
could  be  embodied  by  the  cunning  of  sculpture,  and  stand 
up  in  the  marble  or  the  bronze,  as  we  were  all  wont  to 
gaze  upon  him,  and  so  live  for  ever  among  us,  it  would 
honor  not  New  England  only,  but  America.  Thirty 
States  would  admire  his  genius  ;  and  all  the  generation  that 
knew  him  would  teach  their  children  to  love  the  name  of 
this  meteor  man, — so  mighty,  yet  so  mild. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  199 


ANECDOTES     AND      SAYINGS. 

A  multitude  of  anecdotes  are  current  about  his  practice 
in  Court  and  out  of  Court.,  and  very  many  of  his  sayings, 
witicisms,  and  observations.  These,  however,  must  derive 
much  of  their  force  from  the  way  he  said  them,  and  from 
the  memory  of  him  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who  now  reads 
them.  He  used  to  utter  his  queer  sayings  with  such  pon 
derous  deliberation,  such  imperturbable  solemnity,  that  type 
and  paper  can  do  no  more  than  hint  at  them. 

At  a  time  when  the  Peace  societies  were  condemning 
the  Military  volunteer  organizations  somewhat  harshly, 
some  one  in  his  office  had  a  religious  newspaper  with  a 
column  of  objurgations,  commencing,  "  Christian  soldier  ! 
why  do  you  bear  that  instrument  of  death  against  your 
shoulder  ?"  The  paper  was  passing  round  the  office,  and 
one  of  the  students  undertook  to  read  it  aloud,  beginning 
in  a  loud  voice,  "  Christian  soldier  !  why  do  you  bear 
that  instrument  of  death  upon  your  shoulder  ?"  Choate 
looked  up  from  his  writing  in  the  further  room;  "  Why," 
said  he,  with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  that's  very  easily 
answered.  Why  does  he  bear  that  gun  upon  his  shoulder  ? 
It's  because  the  statute  prescribes  it"  The  fun  here  lies  in 
the  application  of  the  literal  reason  in  answer  to  the  high 
moral  appeal ;  but  it  may  not  be  obvious  to  an  unprofes 
sional  mind.  It  was,  however,  sufficient  at  the  time  to  set 
the  office  and  the  entry  in  a  conflagration  of  mirth. 

I  heard  him,  in  an  argument  before  a  Legislative  com 
mittee,  describe  the  boundary  line  between  Khode  Island 
and  Massachusetts  in  this  language  :  "  Why/'  said  he, 
"it  is  like  starting  at  a  bush,  from  thence  to  a  blue 
jay,  from  thence  to  a  hive  of  bees  in  swarming  time, 


200    REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

from  thence  to  three  hundred  foxes  with  firebrands  in 
their  tails/' 

Two  or  three  years  ago,  during  a  season  of  illness,  Mr, 
Choate  was  visited  by  one  of  his  friends,  who  urged  upon  him 
the  importance  of  paying  more  attention  to  his  health.  ' '  Sir," 
said  the  visitor,  "  you  must  go  away  ;  if  you  continue  your 
professional  labors  thus,  you  will  certainly  undermine  your 
constitution."  Mr.  Choate  looked  up,  and  with  that  grave 
irony  and  peculiar  twinkle  of  the  eye  which  were  so  marked 
and  indescribable  when  he  jested,  said,  "  Sir,  the  constitu 
tion  was  destroyed  long  ago  ;  I  am  now  living  under  the 
bye-laws." 

Coming  into  a  lawyer's  office  one  day,  he  saw  a  close 
winding  staircase  leading  up  to  the  consulting  room.  His 
eye  scanned  its  cork-screw  curvings  for  a  moment;  then 
turning  to  the  lawyer,  his  look  prophesied  a  witticism,  as 
he  quietly  observed,  "  How  drunk  a  man  must  be,  to  go  up 
those  stairs  !" 

In  a  divorce  case,  he  was  arguing  against  the  proba 
bility  of  guilt.  "  They  were  playful,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury, 
not  guilty.  After  the  morning  toil,  they  sat  down  upon  the 
hay  mow  for  refreshment,  not  crime.  There  may  have  been 
a  little  youthful  fondling — playful,  not  amorous.  They 
only  wished  to  mitigate  the  austerities  of  hay  making!3 

Many  passages  of  interest  between  him  and  the  Chief 
Justice  are  floating  round  Court  street  in  lawyer's  talk; 
some  of  them  true,  some  of  them  problematical. 

In  a  case,  I  believe  in  Essex  county,  where  an  old  man, 
white-haired  and  feeble,  was  a  party,  Choate  gave  reins  to 
his  imagination.  He  poetized  upon  the  aged  and  vener 
able  object  of  their  sympathies,  and  at  last  quoted  in  full  a 
touching  passage  from  King  Lear.  The  Chief  raised  his 
mighty  and — with  reverence  be  it  spoken — shaggy  head, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATK.    201 

and  glowered  upon  the  poet.  "  Mr.  Choate,"  lie  broke  out, 
"  this  is  a  dry  question  of  law,  and  you  mistake  if  you 
suppose  the  Supreme  Court  is  to  be  influenced  by  any  such 
considerations  as  you  appear  to  be  suggesting/'  Choate 
paused  a  little, — fussed  with  his  papers, — then  murmured 
out  audibly  enough  for  the  tittering  Bar  to  hear  him,  "  The 
Chief  Justice  isn't  much  of  a  lawyer,  but  what  a  polite 
and  amiable  man  he  is  !"  Considering  that  the  gruff 
Chief  is,  as  a  lawyer,  worthy  to  rank  with  Theophilus 
Parsons,  the  rejoinder  was  very  sarcastic. 

On  another  occasion  when  the  Chief  growled  at  him 
rather  savagely,  he  turned  his  head  back  to  the  Bar  gath 
ered  behind  him — for  he  would  not  say  a  sharp  thing  directly 
to  a  Judge, — and  muttered  slowly  and  soliloquizingly, 
"  We  venerate  the  Chief  Justice,  not  for  any  beauty  of 
form  or  feature; — but  for  the  supposed  hidden  intelligence 
within/'  To  appreciate  this,  one  should  have  known 
Choate;  and  imagine  him  muttering  this  audibly  to  him 
self,  as  if  he  was  trying  to  account  to  himself,  for  the  re 
spect  he  felt  for  the  grim  Chief  notwithstanding  his  sav- 
ageness.  For  I  know  he  did  truly  honor,  appreciate,  and 
admire  Chief  Justice  Shaw. 

For  a  long  time  the  story  ran  current  that  at  a  law 
club  Choate  gave  as  a  sentiment,  "  The  Chief  Justice  ! 
We  contemplate  him  as  the  East  Indian  does  his  wooden- 
headed  idol — he  knows  that  he  is  ugly,  but  he  feels  that 
he  is  great/' 

In  the  famous  Methodist  Church  case,  argued  at  New 
York  within  a  few  years,  he  made  a  memorable  and  daz 
zling  argument.  On  leaving  town  next  day,  his  clients' 
agent  gave  him  $2000,  and  told  him  never  to  abandon  the 
case  while  a  Court  remained  to  which  it  could  be  carried. 
"  Well/'  said  he  to  a  friend  who  stood  by,  "  I  declare  these 


202      REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     C  II  GATE. 

religious  people  fight  harder  and  pay  better  than  any 
clients  I  ever  knew/' 

In  a  trial  for  divorce,  in  Dedham,  a  leading  character 
in  the  case,  I  believe  one  of  the  parties  to  it,  was  a  queer 
sort  of  half-cracked,  hair-brained  individual;  and  during 
the  trial  Choate  stopped  in  his  musing  walk  up  and  down 
the  Court  room  more  than  once  to  observe  him,  saying  to 
his  associate,  "  I  don't  quite  make  out  whether  this  man 
is  fool  or  knave  •  he  seems  a  sort  of  miscellaneous  person." 
When  he  came  to  comment  on  him  in  the  argument,  he 
said,  "  This  man  seems  to  me,  your  Honor,  to  have  a  sort 
of — incipient, — intermittent,— fly-madness"  The  way  he 
brought  out  these  successive  qualifying  adjectives  produced 
great  hilarity  in  all  who  had  watched  the  progress  of  the 
case. 

Every  one  at  the  Suffolk  bar  knows  his  famous  descrip 
tion  of  the  "  second-hand  harness"  which  was  the  subject  of 
suit.  Holding  up  in  his  hand  a  part  of  the  harness,  Mr. 
Choate  said,  "  To  be  sure,  gentlemen,  this  harness  hasn't 
upon  it  all  that  gloss  and  glitter  which  takes  the  eye  of  the 
vulgar  crowd  •  but  I  put  it  to  you,  as  intelligent  jurors, 
acquainted  with  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  whether  it 
isn't  a  safe,  sound,  substantial,  suitable,  second-rate,  second 
hand  harness."  A  critic  of  his  has  quoted  this  anecdote, 
but  expresses  the  opinion  that  it  is  a  fib.  It  is  not  so  con 
sidered,  however,  I  think,  by  the  lawyers  generally ;  for  it 
is  exactly  in  the  style  of  his  exaggerations  when  he  was 
excited,  even  on  the  most  trivial  subject ;  and  anybody 
who  knew  him  well,  can  picture  to  himself  exactly  the 
manner  in  which  he  would  shoot  out  every  one  of  these 
secondary  adjectives.  The  same  critic,  just  alluded  to, 
adds  another  little  anecdote  of  a  different  kind  :  C'A  friend 
of  mine,  speaking  to  him  of  Macready's  art  in  acting,  said 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.     203 

that  a  person  once  heard  a  man  crying  "murder/'  for  two 
hours  in  succession,  in  the  room  under  his  own  at  a  hotel. 
On  inquiry  he  found  it  was  Mr.  Macready  practicing  on  the 
word,  to  get  the  right  agonized  tone.  '  If  a  man/  said 
Choate,  ( should  cry  murder,  for  two  hours,  under  my  win 
dow — I  would  commit  it  !' }:  The  reviewer  goes  on  to 
observe  very  justly  that  "  sentences  cut  apart  from  the 
main  "body  of  one  of  his  productions  can  only  suggest  his 
manner  through  the  process  of  caricature.  Thus/'  he  says, 
"  we  recollect  that  an  honest  master  mason,  in  one  of  his 
arguments,  rose  to  the  dignity  of  a  (  builder  and  beautifier 
of  cities/  In  another  he  represented  the  skipper  of  a  mer 
chant  vessel,  who  had  been  prosecuted  by  his  crew  for  not 
giving  them  enough  to  eat,  as  being  busily  studying  some 
law  book,  while  passing  the  island  of  St.  Helena,  to  find 
out  his  duty  in  case  the  vessel  was  short  of  provisions. 
'  Such/  said  Mr.  Choate,  i  were  his  meditations  as  the 
invisible  currents  of  the  ocean  bore  him  by  the  grave  of 
Napoleon/  A  witness  once  testified,  in  reference  to  one 
of  his  clients,  that  he  had  called  upon  him  on  Friday 
evening,  found  him  crying,  and  on  asking  him  what  was 
the  matter,  received  in  answer,  ( I'm  afraid  I've  run 
against  a  snag/  This  was  rendered  by  Mr.  Choate  some 
what  in  this  way  :  '  Such  were  his  feelings  and  such  his 
actions  down  to  that  fatal  Friday  night,  when,  at  ten 
o'clock,  in  that  flood  of  tears,  his  hope  went  out  like  a 
candle/  These  instances  convey  an  idea  of  the  process  by 
which  Mr.  Choate  makes  c  strange  combinations  out  of 
common  things/  but  a  little  more  accurate  than  an  inten 
tional  parody  of  his  manner." 

An  anecdote  of  a  constable's  return,  and  his  comment 
upon  it,  has  been  told  before,  but  not  in  full.  It  was  an 
action  of  replevin,  and  the  constable  was  ordered  to  attach 


204      R  E  M  I  N  I  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  . 

certain  goods  according  to  the  schedule  furnished  him.  He 
returned  the  writ  into  court,  with  the  schedule  attached 
and  the  goods.  The  return  was  after  this  fashion  :  "On 
this  day,  having  attached  this,  having  taken  that,  having 
done  the  other  thing/'  etc.  Choate  objected  to  this  return 
of  service ;  on  the  ground,  first,  generally,  that  it  was  bad. 
The  Judge  remarked  that,  though  inelegant  and  ungram- 
matical  in  its  structure,  the  paper  still  seemed  to  be  good 
in  a  legal  sense.  "It  may  be  so,  your  Honor/'  replied  Mr. 
Choate,  "  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  has  greatly 
overworked  the  participle/' 

When  the  laugh  which  greeted  this  sally  had  subsided 
a  little,  he  took  the  second  objection;  which  was,  that  the 
officer  had  not  returned  the  same  goods  as  those  in  his  sched 
ule.  His  schedule,  for  example,  said  ginghams;  he  returned 
cassimeres,  etc.  The  old  Chief  took  up  his  copy,  and  read 
along,  comparing  in  his  copy  the  schedule  and  the  return. 
At  last  he  came  to  one  item  which  was  right  in  his  copy;  and 
the  copy  before  him  was  the  original — Choate  had  in  his 
hands  a  transcript  of  the  original — "Very  well,  Mr.  Choate/' 
said  he,  "if  he  has  taken  one  article  according  to  the_ 
schedule  it  will  support  the  writ."  "  Yes,  your  Honor,  but 
he  has  not  one/'  "  Certainly  he  has  ;  here  is  one.  He  is 
ordered  to  attach  shirtings,  and  he  returns  that  he  has 
attached  shirtings."  "  No  !"  replied  Choate,  respectfully, 
but  firmly  ;  "he  is  ordered  to  attach  shirtings,  .and  lie 
returns  sheetings;  a  very^  very  different  thing."  "  No,  Mr. 
Choate  ;  look  at  your  paper  and  I  will  look  at  mine."  So 
the  old  Chief  buried  his  great  head  in  the  papers  a  mo 
ment,  and  Choate  spelled  out  his  again.  A  pause  ensued. 
"  Well,  Mr.  Choate,  you  see  you  arc  wrong,"  was  the  next 
remark  of  the  Bench,  somewhat  testily.  .  "  No,  sir,"  per 
sisted  Choate,  "  I  see  I  am  right."  The  Chief,  by  this  time 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  .       205 

quite  indignant,  took  the  paper  in  his  hand,  and,  looking 
on  it  and  standing  up,  roared  out  each  letter  in  portentous 
tones,  "  S-h-i-r-t  spells  shirt,  does  it  not,  Mr.  Choate  ?" 
Choate  saw  at  once  that  the  mistake  must  have  arisen 
from  an  error  in  copying  his  transcript  from  the  judge's 
original.  "  Well,  your  Honor,"  said  he,  with  a  look  of 
great  gravity,  "  I  should  have  supposed  it  did  spell  shirt, 
without  an  express  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Mas 
sachusetts  upon  it." 

The  Whig  Review  of  January,  1847,  in  an  article  upon 
him,  adds  another  example  from  his  speeches,  which  hap 
pily  illustrates  his  humor  and  fun.  After  speaking  of  a 
grotesque  image  which  Mr.  Choate  used  in  his  speech  on 
the  Oregon  Question, — of  the  Legislature  putting  its  head 
out  of  the  window,  and  in  a  voice  audible  all  over  the 
world,  speaking  to  the  negotiators  of  the  pending  treaty, 
bidding  them  God  speed,  but  insinuating  that  if  they  did 
not  give  up  the  whole  subject  in  dispute,  it  would  be  set 
tled  by  main  strength, — it  refers  to  his  picture  of  a  New 
England  summer,  introduced  in  his  second  speech  on  the 
Tariff,  to  illustrate  the  idea  that  irregularity  is  not  ruin. 

"  Take  the  New  England  climate,  in  summer ;  you 
would  think  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end.  Certain 
recent  heresies  on  that  subject  may  have  had  a  natural 
origin  there.  Cold  to-day,  hot  to-morrow  ;  mercury  at 
eighty  degrees  in  the  morning,  with  wind  at  south-west ; 
and  in  three  hours  more  a  sea-turn,  wind  at  east,  a  thick 
fog  from  the  very  bottom  of  the  ocean,  and  a  fall  of  forty 
degrees  of  Fahrenheit ;  now  so  dry  as  to  kill  all  the  beans  in 
New  Hampshire  ;  then  floods  carrying  off  the  bridges  of  the 
Penobscot  and  Connecticut ;  snow  in  Portsmouth  in  July  : 
and  the  next  day  a  man  and  a  yoke  of  oxen  killed  by  light 
ning  in  Rhode  Island.  You  would  think  the  world  was 


206  REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

twenty  times  coming  to  an  end  !  But  I  don't  know  how 
it  is  :  we  go  along  ;  the  early  and  the  latter  rain  falls,  each 
in  its  season  ;  seed-time  and  harvest  do  not  fail ;  the  sixty 
days  of  hot,  corn  weather  are  pretty  sure  to  "be  measured 
out  to  us.  The  Indian  Summer,  with  its  bland  south 
west  and  mitigated  sunshine,  brings  all  up  ;  and  on  the 
twenty-fifth  of  November,  or  thereabouts,  being  Thursday, 
three  millions  of  grateful  people,  in  meeting-houses,  or 
around  the  family  board,  give  thanks  for  a  year  of  health, 
plenty,  and  happiness." 

A  few  years  ago,  a  Yankee  "down  easter"  tried  his 
hand  at  describing  Mr.  Choate  in  his  own  down-east  style. 
It  is  of  course  a  caricature,  but  making  due  allowance  for 
that,  it  gives  a  notion  of  this  marvelous  man,  as  seen  by 
one  with  an  eye  for  the  ludicrous. 

Here  is  our  greatest  legal  orator,  as  seen  with  a  down- 
east  eye  :  "  Rufus  Choate  is  a  picture  to  look  at,  and  a 
crowder  to  spout.  He  is  about  seven  feet  six,  or  six  feet 
seven,  in  his  socks,  supple  as  an  eel,  and  wiry  as  a  cork 
screw.  His  face  is  a  compound  of  wrinkles,  '  yaller  jan- 
ders/  and  jurisprudence.  He  has  small,  keen,  piercing 
black  eyes,  and  a  head  shaped  like  a  mammoth  goose-egg, 
big  end  up  ;  his  hair  black  and  curly,  much  resembling  a 
bag  of  wool  in  c  admirable  disorder/  or  a  brush  heap  in  a 
gale  of  wind.  His  body  has  no  particular  shape,  and  his 
wit  and  legal  '  dodges'  have  set  many  a  judge  in  a  snicker, 
and  so  confounded  jurors  as  to  make  it  almost  impossible 
for  them  to  speak  plain  English. 

"Kufus  is  great  on  twisting  and  coiling  himself  up, 
squirming  around,  and  prancing,  jumping  and  kicking  up 
the  dust,  when  steam's  up.  His  oratory  is  first-rate,  and 
his  arguments  ingenious  and  forcible.  He  generally  makes 
a  ten-strike — -judge  and  jury  down  at  the  end  of  every  sen- 


It  E  M  I  N  I  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF     II  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E .     207 

tence.  He  is  great  on  flowery  expressions  and  high-falootin 
'  flub-dubs.'  Strangers  mostly  think  he  is  crazy,  and  the 
rest  scarcely  understand  what  it  is  about.  He  has  been  in 
the  Senate.,  and  may  be,  if  he  has  time  to  fish  for  it;  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States.  He  invoices  his  time  and  elo 
cution  four  thousand  per  cent,  over  ordinary  charges  for 
having  one's  self  put  through  a  course  of  law.  Rufus 
Choate  is  about  fifty  years  of  age,  perhaps  over.  He  is 
considered  the  ablest  lawyer  in  New  England,  or  perhaps 
in  the  United  States." 

Caricatured  as  this  is,  the  down  easter  evidently  appre 
ciates  the  greatness  and  originality  of  his  power. 

In  a  suit  for  wages  by  a  young  woman  who  worked  in 
a  milliner's  shop,  he  concluded  a  powerful  appeal  by  say 
ing,  "  Was  it  not  enough,  Gentlemen,  that  she  should  live 
in  that  atmosphere  of  silks,  satins,  ribbons  and  lavender 
water, — without  being  cheated  out  of  her  wages  ?" 

Speaking  of  the  democratic  administration  in  the  days 
when  the  Whig  party  still  lived,  he  said,  "  Well,  it  is  as  I 
expected.  Put  you  knoiv  who  on  horseback,  and  he'll  ride 
you  know  where." 

When,  in  1847,  he  argued  for  a  proper  license  system 
of  the  sale  of  spirituous  liquors,  before  a  committee,  of  the 
Boston  Common  Council,  he  was  in  the  prime  of  his 
power.  A  satirical  paper  at  that  time  gave  the  following- 
description  of  him,  which,  in  all  its  burlesque,  is  never 
theless  highly  panegyrical :  "  As  he  shot  his  piercing,  reso 
lute  eyes  hither  and  thither,  drew  on  that  solemn  face,  and 
poured  out  those  deep  tones  of  awful  solemnity,  rolled  up 
those  tremendous  climaxes,  raised  his  commanding  form 
upon  his  toes,  came  down  upon  his  heels  like  two  pavers' 
rammers,  and  shook  the  whole  firmament  of  the  Council 
chamber  like  an  earthquake,  we  could  not  but  imagine  what 


REMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS    C  HO  ATE. 

a  sensation  he  would  have  produced  as  a  revival  preacher, 
or  as  Richard  the  Third  on  the  stage." 

This  newspaper  reference  to  Richard  the  Third  is  very 
apposite. 

It  always  seemed  to  me  he  might  have  been  trained  to 
triumph  in  tragedy.  Dark  faces  are  deficient  in  delicate 
expression,  but  for  intensity  of  look,  and  great  and  distant 
effects,  are  far  better  than  lighter  or  blonde  faces.  I  have 
heard  a  poetic  observer  and  critic  of  men  say,  that  two  men 
only  of  this  generation  had  ever  been  able  to  put  fire  into  his 
brain  ;  one  was  Edwin  Booth,  the  other  Rufus  Choate. 

But  it  was  in  the  mixture  of  the  grave  with  the  gay 
thoughts  that  his  humor  often  glanced  the  brightest. 
About  the  time  that  Minot's  Ledge  Light-house,  in  Bos 
ton  harbor,  was  carried  away  in  a  terrific  winter  storm 
which  lasted  a  day  or  two,  he  happened  into  the  Athena3um 
Library;  and  gazing  from  its  ample  windows  on  the  broad 
open  space  before  him,  flanked  by  Park  street  church; 

"  Well,  Mr.  F ,"  said  lie  to  the  librarian,  with  a  smile, 

"  after  all  this  blast,  there  stands  my  old  friend,  Park 
street  steeple,  unshaken,  intact,  unterrified."  Then  his 
glance  fell  on  the  wide  intervening  graveyard,  his  smiling 
eyes  dropped,  his  voice  sank  into  a  rich,  mellow,  mournful 
tone,  and  with  much  emotion,  he  continued,  "Ah,  Mr. 

F ,  the  dead  are  safest,  midst  all  this  hurly-burly  !" 

The  thoughts  and  the  manner  in  the  two  clauses  of  this 
sentence  would  have  brought  inevitably  to  any  one  pres 
ent,  first  a  smile,  then  a  tear. 

In  a  speech  at  Salem,  in  1848,  after  many  of  his  old 
Whig  party  had  gone  over  to  the  Free  Soil  party,  he  gazed 
around  the  great  crescent  of  people  before  him,  and  con 
cluded  one  of  his  opening  paragraphs  emotionally  thus  : 
"  Of  the  great  men  I  knew  here,  and  loved,  some  of  them 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

are  dead  ;"  then  pausing  an  instant,  long  enough  for  all  to 
remember  that  some  of  them  were  alive,  but  lost  to  the 
party,  he  continued,  "  Aye,  some  of  them  are  dead — and 
some  of  them  are  ivorse  than  dead  \" 

A  divorce  case,  argued  about  1841,  where  the  parties 
lived  in  South  Boston,  is  still  remembered  by  the  Bar  as 
giving  occasion  to  some  extraordinary  feats  of  legal  leger 
demain  by  Mr.  Ckoate.  Bradford  Sumner  was  on  the 
other  side,  and  his  feelings  were  ardently  enlisted  in  the 
cause.  I  remember  he  caused  great  mirth  among  Bosto- 
nians  by  calling  South  Boston  "  that  Kob  Roy  neighbor 
hood/'  One  of  the  chief  witnesses  to  prove  the  alleged 
guilt  by  reason  of  which  the  divorce  was  sought  for,  on  the 
part  of  the  husband,  was  a  woman  named  Abigail  Bell. 
Mr..  Choate  was  for  the  husband  and  the  divorce.  On 
cross-examination,  Mr.  Sumner  asked  this  witness,  "  Are 
you  married  ?"  "  No."  "  Have  you  children  ?"  "  No." 
"  Have  you  a  child  ?"  Then  there  was  a  long  and  dis 
tressing  pause.  The  question  was  repeated — "  Have  you  a 
child  ?"  At  last  the  monosyllable  "yes"  was  fully  uttered 
by  the  witness.  Instantly  the  counsel  ceased  the  cross- 
examination.  Of  course  her  testimony,  where  there  was  a 
conflict  of  testimony,  was  immensely  damaged  in  the  eyes 
of  the  jury,  by  this  fact  confessed  of  the  maiden  mother. 
Choate  did  not  ask  any  question  in  reply  or  explanation, 
and  she  stepped  down  from  the  witness-stand  a  blackened 
woman. 

When,  however,  he  came  finally,  in  the  course  of  his 
argument,  to  reply  to  that  part  of  his  case  which  rested  on 
her  evidence,  he  took  her  character  in  hand.  The  Court 
room  hushed  the  moment  he  said,  "Abigail  Bell's  evidence, 
Gentlemen,  is  before  you."  Raising  himself  up  and  with 
great  firmness,  he  went  on — "  I  solemnly  assert  there  is  not 


210         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

the  sliadoiu  of  a  shade  of  doubt  or  of  suspicion  on  that  evi 
dence  or  on  her  character!"  Everybody  looked  stupefied 
with  astonishment  at  these  words.  Solemnly  he  pro 
ceeded,  "  What  though  in  an  unguarded  moment,  she  may 
have  trusted  too  far  to  the  young  man  to  whom  she  had 
pledged  her  untried  affections;  to  whom  she  was  to  be 
wedded  on  the  next  Lord's  day  ;  and — ivho  ivas  sud 
denly  struck  dead  at  her  feet  by  a  stroke  of  lightning  out 
of  the  heavens  !"  Then  he  made  another  of  his  tremen 
dous  pausings,  and  snuffings  of  the  air,  and  his  strange 
dark  eyes  lowered  over  the  jury,  while  they  took  in  this 
novel  and  extraordinary  explanation.  The  whole  Court 
room  felt  its  force,  and  lighted  up  as  if  a  feeling  of  relief 
had  been  experienced  by  every  one  present.  There  was  a 
buzz,  a  stir,  a  universal  sensation — and  then  again,  Choate 
rolled  along  under  full  headway. 

As  a  lawyer,  he  had  a  right  to  suppose  any  explanation 
of  the  damaging  fact  which  would  account  for  it  consist 
ently  with  innocence  ; — and  this  was  his  hypothesis. 

Mr.  Sumner's  argument  to  the  jury  was  very  able  ;  I 
well  remember,  although  it  is  sixteen  or  seventeen  years 
ago,  how  he  told  me  he  had  laid  awake  all  night  thinking 
it  over.  But  Mr.  Choate  wTon  the  case. 

In  a  well-known  case  against  the  Old  Colony  Eailroad, 
when  plaintiff  sued  for  damages  for  injury  by  being  run 
down  by  their  train,  Choate  called  some  boys  as  witnesses. 
They  swore  they  were  shooting  coots  near  by  the  crossing 
when  the  accident  occurred;  and  that  the  train  did  not 
make  the  proper  signal  for  a  crossing.  The  defense  called 
the  Selectmen  of  Marshfield  to  prove  that  coots  did  not  fly 
in  August;  and  therefore  the  boys  could  not  have  been 
there  shooting  them,  as  they  swore,  in  that  month. 

Choate,  as  he  approached  their  testimony  in  his  argu- 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.      211 

•* 

ment,  said,  "I  do  not  suppose  this  boy  was  ornithological 
extensively.  They  call  the  Selectmen  to  prove  there  was 
no  game  for  him  there.  The  Selectmen  !  Why  hav'nt 
they  called  the  sportsmen  of  Marshfield  ?  Why  hav'nt 
they  called  those  men  who  have  learned  this  thing  as  they 
have  learned  other  things,  from  great  example ! — (  to 
throw  the  line,  to  point  the  tube,  to  recognize  the 
game  ?' }:  Of  course  the  allusion  here,  was  to  Daniel 
Webster's  neighboring  residence  of  Marshfield ;  and  the 
conversational  instructions  he  had  been  so  fond  of  giving 
to  his  former  friends.  In  point  of  fact,  too,  I  believe  the 
Selectmen  were  wrong,  and  the  sportsmen  would  have  cor 
rected  them  •  for  although  not  frequent,  still — coots  do 
fly  in  August. 

Mr.  Choate  made  a  great  passage  in  the  case  of  Shaw 
vs.  Worcester  Kail  road,  which  was  one  of  the  last  trials  of 
much  popular  interest  that  he  was  engaged  in.  The  per 
son  injured  by  the  collision  of  the  cars  with  his  wagon, 
which  was  the  subject  of  the  suit,  was  said,  by  a  witness, 
to  have  been  intoxicated  at  the  time  he  was  driving.  On 
cross-examination  the  witness  said  he  knew  it,  because  he 
leant  over  him  and  perceived  his  breath,  which  seemed  as 
if  "  he  had  been  drinking  gin  and  brandy."  Commenting 
on  this  with  great  power,  Choate  said,  "  This  witness 
swears  he  stood  by  the  dying  man  in  his  last  moments. 
What  was  he  there  for  ?"  he  shouted  out;  "  Was  it  to  ad 
minister  those  assiduities  which  are  ordinarily  proffered  at 
the  bedside  of  dying  men  ?  Was  it  to  extend  to  him  the 
consolations  of  that  religion  which  for  eighteen  hundred 
years  has  comforted  the  world  ?  No,  gentlemen,  no  !  He 
leans  over  the  departing  sufferer  ;  he  bends  his  face  nearer 
and  nearer  to  him — and  what  does  he  do  !  (in  a  voice  of 
thunder)  What  does  he  do  ? — Smells  gin  and  brandy!'' 


212   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

% 

I  think  this.,  as  he  worked  it  out,  was  the  most  effective 
anti-climax  ever  achieved  in  our  Courts. 

In  the  Dalton  divorce  case  he  characterized  the  letters 
of  the  lady  to  her  husband  as  being  like  "  the  Eclogues 
of  Virgil — one  long  sigh  for  peace  ;  they  are  one  long  song 
of  '  Home,  sweet  Home;'  and  him;  her  husband,  its  destined 
idol." 

In  an  insurance  case,  tried  in  the  Supreme  Court,  Mr. 
Choate' s  vessel  was  alleged  to  be  unseaworthy,  and  the 
evidence  disclosed  a  plank  started  from  her  sides.  It  be 
came  pertinent  for  the  orator  to  sear  this  place  up,  and  he 
closed  one  of  his  long  paragraphs  with  these  words  :  "And, 
Gentlemen,  all  this  ship  needed  to  set  her  right,  was  two 
copper  bolts,  two  wooden  trennels — nay,  two  old  candles/' 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  convulsions  of  laughter 
which  followed  this. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  a  style  so  extravagant  as  his 
was  very  open  to  ridicule.  Jeremiah  Mason  is  said  to  have 
opened  an  argument  to  a  jury,  after  Choate,  who  was  on 
the  other  side,  had  piled  his  frenzy  very  high  before  them, 
by  saying,'  in  his  blunt,  homely  way,  "  Gentlemen  of  the 
iury,  I  don't  know  as  I  can  Gyrate  afore  you  as  my  brother 
Choate  does;  but  I  want  to  just  state  a  few  pints."  The 
contrast  between  the  two  styles  was  at  first  somewhat  dam 
aging  to  Choate. 

In  another  case,  the  opposite  counsel  to  Mr.  Choate — a 
rough  man — made  great  laughter  by  closing  his  hostile 
description  of  Choate's  line  of  argument  with  the  declara 
tion,  that  he  thought  "  it  was — altogether  too  big  a  boo  for 
so  small  a  calf." 

But  Mr.  Choate  bore  such  momentary  reverses  with 
unflinching  sobriety.  His  look  under  them  seemed  to  in 
dicate  always  that  nothing  could  touch  him;  and  he  only 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          213 

felt  regret  that  so  much  wit  should  be  ivasted  by  his  adver 
sary. 

A  little  sally  of  wit  in  regard  to  Mr.  Choate,  by  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  the  "Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table/' 
is  worth  preserving.  When  Choate  was  obliged  to  disap 
point  Dartmouth  College  in  not  delivering  a  promised  Com 
mencement  address,  the  little  Autocrat  was  sent  for  as  a 
substitute.  Going  up  in  the  cars,  some  one  asked,  "  Who 
is  to  fill  Mr.  Choate' s  place  to-morrrow  ?"  The  lively  little 
Doctor  jumped  up,  and  coming  forward  said,  "  Nobody's 
going  to  Jill  his  place.  I'm  going  to  rattle  round  in  it,  a 
little  while." 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Choate's  great  speech  for  Buchanan, 
in  Lowell,  there  was  a  sudden  settling  of  the  floor  of  the 
hall  where  they  were.  A  Lowell  gentleman,  well  known  as 
a  lawyer  and  politician,  volunteered  to  go  out  and  examine 
the  supports  underneath.  He  did  so;  and,  to  his  horror, 
found  them  in  such  a  state  that  if  there  should  be  the 
least  rush  of  the  audience  they  would  inevitably  give  way, 
the  roof  and  floor  would  go  together,  and  all  be  involved 
in  a  common  ruin.  With  great  fortitude  he  went  quietly 
back;  and,  to  prove  there  was  no  danger.,  walked  the  whole 
length  of  the  crowded  hall  up  to  the  platform  where  the 
speakers  and  president  were. 

As  he  passed,  Mr.  Choate  leaned  down  and  asked  him 
if  he  found  danger.  The  gentleman,  keeping  his  face  per 
fectly  unmoved,  so  as  not  to  frighten  others,  whispered  into 
Choate's  ear  with  characteristic  abruptness,  "  If  I  can't  get 
this  crowd  out  quietly,  we  shall  all  be  in  h-11  in  five  min 
utes."  As  might  have  been  expected  from  so  blunt  and 
terrible  a  communication,  Mr.  Choate's  face  instantly  be 
came  ashy  pale  ;  but  he  controlled  himself  and  sat  per 
fectly  steady. 


214         REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    C II  GATE. 

The  gentleman  mounted  the  stage,  assured  the  people 
there  was  no  real  danger  ;  but  to  guard  against  the  mere 
possibility  of  danger,  he  advised  them  to  withdraw  quietly, 
very  quietly,  to  the  open  air,  where  the  speech  would  go  on. 
In  five  minutes  the  hall  was  clear. 

Dreadful  as  had  been  the  moment's  shock  to  his  feel 
ings,  Mr.  Choate' s  humor  did  not  even  then  desert  him  ; 
for  as  he  stepped  from  the  hall  himself,  he  said  to  his 
friend  who  had  made  the  announcement  to  him,  "  And 
did  you  really  think,  my  friend,  just  now,  that  I  ivas 
bound  for  the  same  place  ivitli  you  ?" 

An  anecdote  of  him  told  me  by  one  of  the  Common 
Pleas  judges,  as  occurring  in  1834,  illustrates  his  prodi 
gious  resolution.  His  case  was  argued  two  days.  In  the 
afternoon  of  the  first  day  he  seemed  sick  and  feeble.  But 
on  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  he  looked  so  bright  that 
my  informant  remarked  to  him,  "You  seem  much  brighter 
this  morning,  Mr.  Choate."  "  0  yes,"  was  the  prompt 
reply  ;  "  I've  got  a  blister  all  across  my  stomach.  I  am 
excoriated  entirely,  and/ee£  quite  smart!' 

In  another  case  in  which  this  same  judge  was  of  coun 
sel,  in  1845,  Mr.  Choate  was  so  weak,  and  had  such  a  ver 
tigo,  that  he  was  compelled  to  hold  on  by  both  hands  to 
his  table,  in  order  to  steady  himself  while  he  spoke.  Yet 
even  thus  he  talked  two  hours  ;  then  got  five  minutes' 
recess  ;  went  to  his  office,  took  an  emetic;  came  back  and 
finished  the  whole  argument. 

It  was  either  in  this  case  or  another,  where  this  same 
gentleman,  my  informant,  was  with  him,  that  in  a  sudden 
lull  and  break  in  the  case,  while  the  Court  was  waiting, 
Choate  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  discoursed  to  his  asso 
ciates  for  an  hour,  upon  the  various  extant  editions  of 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.          215 

Cicero;  going  into  details  and  even  verbal  criticisms,  thus 
extemporaneously. 

In  his  speech  in  defense  of  the  Judiciary  in  the  Consti 
tutional  Convention,  he  was  answering  a  direct  appeal 
which  had  been  made  to  him,  as  to  whether  he  had  not 
heard  particular  acts  of  the  Judges  commented  on  very  un 
favorably.  He  was  proceeding,  speaking  very  slowly  and 
solemnly,  "  Sir,  I  have  known  and  loved  many  men,  many 
women" — (here  there  was  a  subdued  titter  in  the  house  ; 
he  raised  himself  up  erect,  his  eyes  flashed  with  a  sublime 
ardor,  as  he  repeated  in  a  most  solemn  tone) — "  aye,  many 
beautiful  women,  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  of  the  purest 
and  noblest  of  earth  or  skies  ;  but  I  never  knew  one,  I 
never  heard  of  one,  if  conspicuous  enough  to  attract  a  con 
siderable  observation,  whom  the  breath  of  calumny  or  of 
sarcasm  always  wholly  spared.  Did  the  learned  gentleman 
who  interrogates  me  ever  know  one  ?  c  Be  thou  as  chaste 
as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny/ ''' 

The  effect  of  his  truly  majestic  delivery  of  these  words 
was  most  solemnizing.  No  one  smiled  again.  It  awed, 
sobered,  silenced  the  whole  house. 

It  would  be  quite  impossible,  to  garner  up  all  his  tell 
ing  phrases  which  were  remembered  and  current  in  the 
talk  of  the  Bar  and  the  world.  His  statement,  so  epi 
grammatic,  at  the  New  England  Dinner,  produced  lasting 
effects:  "  The  Puritans  founded  a  church  without  a  Bishop, 
a  state  without  a  King/'  His  words  about  the  Bible  were 
memorable  :  "  What  !  banish  the  Bible  from  our  schools  ? 
Never,  while  there  is  a  piece  of  Plymouth  Bock  left  large 
enough  to  make  a  gun  flint  of  !"  Again,  at  the  convention 
which  nominated  General  Scott  for  President,  he  was  for 
Webster  ;  and  he  said  the  Scott  men  wanted  no  platform, 
but  "  a  letter  in  every  man's  breeches7  pocket." 


216          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE. 

His  description  is  hackneyed  but  famous,  of  the  party 
that,  as  he  said,  "  Carry  the  flag,  and  keep  step  to  the 
music  of  the  Union." 

He  spoke  of  a  certain  namby-pamby  minister  as  "a 
man  milliner/' 

Describing  some  one's  conduct,  he  said  it  was  "  cool  ! 
cool  as  a  couple  of  summer  mornings." 

In  one  of  the  newspaper  notices  drawn  forth  by  Mr. 
Choate's  death,  the  following  passage  occurred.  I  quote 
it  because  it  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  style  of  criticism 
upon  him  of  those  who,  from  mistake  or  ignorance,  mis 
judged  him  : — 

"As  a  lawyer,  he  seemed  to  prefer  cases  the  most  devoid 
of  substantial  merit,  not  because  he  had  any  natural  affin 
ity  for  depravity,  but  for  the  opportunity  afforded  of 
exercising  his  legal  ingenuity  and  displaying  his  unique 
eloquence.  Even  at  the  bar  of  Massachusetts,  indulgent 
as  it  naturally  was  to  the  faults  of  its  distinguished  leader, 
his  reputation  suffered  from  the  superfluous  zeal  he  mani 
fested  in  clearing  Tirrel,  the  murderer  and  incendiary,  on 
the  preposterous  theory  of  somnambulism,  as  well  as  from 
other  efforts  of  a  similar  kind.  Prone  as  his  hearers  were 
to  exult  in  the  splendid  exhibition,  they  could  not  forget 
occasionally  that  the  lightnings  of  his  genius  were  bran 
dished  with  little  regard  to  consequences,  and  that  it  was 
comparatively  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the  great  actor 
of  the  scene  whether  they  purified  the  moral  atmosphere 
by  vindicating  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice,  or  struck 
down  the  fair  fabrics  of  public  virtue  and  public  integrity." 

Now  this  is  grossly  unjust  to  Mr.  Choate's  memory, 
and  is  not  true.  The  only  cases  he  ever  did  refuse  were 
criminal  cases.  But  this  Tirrel  case,  in  particular,  I  hap 
pened  to  know  from  him  something  about.  The  defense 


BEMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS     CHOATE.          217 

in  that  case,  as  lie  told  me  himself,  was  brought  to  him  by 
the  women  and  friends  of  Tin-el's  family ,  who  told  him, 
with  tears,  that  Tirrell  was  a  somnambulist,  and  upon  that 
ground  they  wished  him  defended  ;  and  they  besought 
him,  almost  on  their  knees,  to  save  a  man  who  had  killed 
his  mistress  in  Ms  sleep:  If  ever  a  man  has  a  right  to  a 
defense,  it  is  when  he  is  on  trial  for  his  life  ;  and  if  ever  a 
lawyer  has  his  greatest  opportunity  for  usefulness,  it  is 
in  manfully  defending  one  whom  public  clamor  has  tried 
and  convicted  long  before  law  and  Courts  have  tried  him. 
Then  it  is,  amid  the  howling  of  the  mob,  that  the  lawyer 
is  to  stand  forth  unterrified  between  the  mob  who  would 
Lynch  the  victim,  and  the  criminal  who  has  not  been  tried; 
and  it  is  for  the  servant  of  the  law  to  cry  "  Peace,"  while 
sovereign  Law  examines  all  the  record. 

But  to  show  manifestly  and  for  ever  how  falsely  Mr. 
Choate' s  character  has  been  impugned  for  his  connection 
with  this  case,  I  have  collected  a  full  account  of  the  case; 
chiefly  by  the  aid  of  the  gentleman  whose  student  reminis 
cences  of  Mr.  Choate  were  appended  to  a  previous  chapter 
of  this  book.  The  argument  never  was  reported  in  full. 
But  to  this  present  inquiry,  the  style  of  the  argument  is  not 
material.  The  facts  of  the  case,  the  opinions  of  the  judges, 
the  surrounding  circumstances,  are  all  important.  They 
show  that  Tirrell,  had  he  been  hung,  would  have  been 
hung  in  defiance  of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  principle  of  law, 
that  no  man  shall  be  condemned  to  die  while  he  is  not 
proven  guilty  beyond  a  reasonable  doubt.  Tirrell  never 
was  so  proven;  and  I  believe  fully  that  Mr.  Choate  died  in 
the  sincere  belief,  that  he  killed  his  victim  in  a  fit  of  uncon 
scious  sleep-walking,  although  it  was  never  proved  that  he 
actually  killed  her  at  all. 

I  am  interested  to  draw  the  attention  of  all  who  feel  at- 

10 


218    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

tr acted  toward  Mr.  Choate's  memory,  to  this  case;  because 
it  was  this  Tirrell  case  from  which  the  idea  chiefly  took 
rise  that  Mr.  Choate  was  somewhat  unscrupulous  in  his 
defense  of  criminals.  But  there  never  was  a  greater  misrep 
resentation.  Whatever  he  was  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his 
career,  after  he  grew  to  maturity,  he  was  very  careful 
about  his  defenses  on  the  criminal  side  of  the  Court.  On 
the  civil  side  of  the  Court,  as  I  have  previously  described 
him,  he  took  every  thing,  and  fought  to  conquer  ;  but 
on  the  other  side,  he  felt  his  responsibility  to  the  public. 
When  Professor  Webster's  murder  case  was  depending,  his 
friends  applied  to  Mr.  Choate  to  defend  him  on  his  charge 
of  homicide.  He  refused  the  case. 

This  Tirrell  case  has  never  been  fully  understood  by  the 
public,  though  by  the  profession  it  has  been  entirely  and 
justly  comprehended.  There  never  was  a  more  righteous 
acquittal  on  a  charge  of  murder,  under  our  law,  than  that 
of  Albert  J.  Tirrell.  Judge  Wilde  of  the  Supreme  Court 
was  accustomed  to  express  his  entire  approbation  of  the 
verdict,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  the  whole  Court  were 
satisfied  with  it. 

Mr.  Choate  told  me  several  years  ago  that  he  never 
thought  of  such  a  line  of  defense  as  somnambulism,  but  the 
friends  of  the  prisoner  came  to  him  with  tears,  and  he 
yielded  to  them. 

The  day  after  the  second  trial  of  Tirrell,  which  was  not 
for  murder  but  arson,  where  the  evidence  was  substantially 
the  same  as  in  the  first,  I  saw  Mr.  Choate  in  his  study. 
He  was  lying  down,  deadly  sick  with  nausea  and  exhaustion. 
The  jury  were  still  out,  and  it  was  understood  had  been 
divided  all  night.  I  asked  Mr.  Choate  if  he  feared  their 
verdict.  "  No/'  said  he  ;  "  they  may  disagree,  but  they 
never  can  convict  him  according  to  our  law." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    219 

As  I  have  often  felt  indignant  at  the  comments  of  the 
ignorant  upon  Mr.  Choate's  conduct  in  this  cause,  it  is  a 
gratification  to  me  to  be  enabled  to  present  the  following 
statement  of  the  facts  ;  and  the  line  of  argument  pursued 
in  it  is  also  here  added.  The  statement  has  been  carefully 
prepared  from  original  sources  of  information. 

THE    ALBERT    J.    TIRRELL    CASE. 

Perhaps  no  criminal  case  ever  attracted  more  attention, 
or  occasioned  more  comment  upon  its  defense,  than  this- 
Albert  J.  Tirrell  was  indicted  and  tried  in  March,  1846,  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk,  for  the  murder  of  Mrs.  Bickford,  on  the 
morning  of  October  27,  1845,  in  the  house  of  one  Joel  Law 
rence,  in  Mount  Vernon  avenue,  near  Charles  street,  Boston. 

Tirrell  belonged  to  Weymouth,  and  was  respectably 
connected.  He  had  a  wife  and  family  there  ;  but  had  led 
an  irregular  life  for  some  time,  and  was  living  at  this  time 
with  Mrs.  Bickford,  who  had  left  her  husband.  In  fact, 
Tirrell  was  at  this  very  time  under  indictment  for  criminal 
connection. 

Tirrell  was  only  twenty- two  years  old,  and  the  deceased 
twenty-one. 

The  trial  was  commenced  March  -24,  1846,  before  Jus 
tices  Wilde,  Dewey  and  Hubbard,  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
Mr.  Choate  and  Messrs.  Amos  B.  and  Annis  Merrill  had 
been  assigned  as  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  and  the  prosecu 
tion  was  conducted  by  S.  D.  Parker,  Esq.,  county  attorney 
for  Suffolk. 

The  case  presented  by  the  government,  and  developed 
by  testimony,  was  substantially  as  follows  :  The  house,  in 
which  the  body  of  the  deceased  was  found,  was  occupied  by 
Joel  Lawrence  and  family,  and  was  of  bad  reputation.  On 
the  evening  of  the  26th  of  October,  which  was  Sunday,  at 


220     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

nine  o'clock,  Tirrell  was  seen  in  the  same  room  with  the 
deceased,  and  was  not  afterwards  seen  in  the  house,  which 
was  locked  up  and  closed  for  the  night.  About  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  of  the  next  day,  Monday,  27th  of  October, 
Mrs.  Lawrence  and  another  inmate  of  the  house,  heard  a 
noise  in  Mrs.  Bickford's  room,  then  a  fall,  and  about  half 
an  hour  after  heard  a  person  go  out  of  the  door.  Mr.  Law 
rence,  who  occupied  a  different  apartment,  was  awakened 
between  four  and  five,  Monday,  A.  M.,  by  a  person  going  out 
of  the  door,  and  a  noise,  as  of  a  groan  or  inarticulate  sound 
in  the  yard,  and  soon  after  by  the  cry  of  "  fire"  from  his 
wife.  This  peculiar  cry  outside  of  the  house,  which  fol 
lowed  the  opening  of  the  door,  was  distinctly  remembered 
by  Lawrence  and  his  wife  and  another  inmate  of  the 
house. 

At  about  five  o'clock,  or  somewhat  after,  a  fireman, 
who  heard  the  alarm,  came  to  the  house,  and,  with  Law 
rence,  proceeded  to  Mrs.  Bickford's  room.  The  fire  was 
still  burning,  and  was  put  out  by  the  fireman  ;  Lawrence 
giving  little  or  no  aid,  and  appearing  reluctant  to  go  into 
the  room,  saying  that  the  fire  was  out.  On  the  floor  of  the 
chamber  was  found  the  dead  body  of  Mrs.  Bickford,  the 
throat  cut  from  ear  to  ear,  an  open  and  bloody  razor  on 
the  floor,  and  blood  on  the  floor  and  bed.  A  mattress  and 
straw  bed  were  partially  burned,  and  there  were  matches 
in  the  straw  bed.  The  wash  bowl  contained  blood  and 
water,  and  one  ear  ring  of  Deceased  was  torn  from  the  ear. 
Part  of  the  apparel  of  the  prisoner  was  also  found  in  the 
room. 

The  government  undertook  to  call  as  witnesses  all 
the  inmates  of  the  house  ;  but  there  was  no  testimony 
touching  the  prisoner's  presence  in  the  house  after  nine 
o'clock  on  Sunday  evening,  and  nothing  relative  to  the 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    OHOATE.          221 

appearance  of  the  room  from  four  to  five,  A.  M.,  of 
Monday. 

Between  four  and  five,  A.  M.,  of  the  same  day,  Tirrell 
called  at  Fullam's  stable,  in  Bowdoin  Square,  for  a  con 
veyance  to  Wey mouth,  saying  "  he  had  got  into  trouble, 
and  wanted  me  to  carry  him  off ;  that  somebody  had  come 
into  his  room  and  tried  to  murder  him." 

At  five  and  a  half,  A.  M.,  he  called  at  a  house  occupied 
by  one  Head,  in  Kidgeway  Lane,  not  far  from  Fullam's 
stable,  to  get  two  handkerchiefs.  His  appearance  was  de 
scribed  as  peculiar  and  wild,  and  like  that  of  a  person  in  a 
stupor,  when  at  this  place;  and  the  sounds  of  his  voice  were 
like  a  distressed  groan.  A  man  from  Fullam's  stable  drove 
the  prisoner  to  Weymouth,  where  he  remained;  and  thence 
wandered  about  until  he  was  finally  arrested  in  New  Or 
leans. 

An  inmate  of  Lawrence's  house  had  heard  loud  conver 
sation  between  Tirrell  and  Mrs.  Bickford  in  their  room  on 
Sunday  evening. 

Such  was  the  case  against  the  prisoner.  It  can  not  be 
denied  that  there  was  a  strong  feeling  against  Tirrell  in 
the  community.  The  case  was  one  of  startling  interest, 
resembling  that  of  Kobinson  for  the  murder  of  Helen 
Jewett,  which  took  place  in  New  York  about  ten  years 
before  this  time. 

The  defense  was  opened  at  great  length  and  with  much 
ability  by  the  junior  counsel,  Mr.  Annis  Merrill.  Many 
points  were  taken  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner.  It  was  urged 
generally,  that  there  was  no  positive  evidence  affecting 
him,  and  that  the  testimony  relied  upon  by  the  govern 
ment  to  convict  him  was  circumstantial,  and  from  the 
infamous  inmates  of  a  bad  house,  and  ought  not  to  be 
credited.  There  was  no  evidence  that  Tirrell  was  in  the 


222          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

house  after  nine  o'clock  of  the  26th  of  October ;  and  no 
evidence  concerning  the  room  and  its  appearance  before 
the  fireman  and  coroner  examined  it ;  while,  according  to 
the  government  case,  the  murder  took  place  at  least  an 
hour  before  ;  that  there  was  no  motive  for  this  alleged  act 
by  prisoner  ;  and  there  was  a  violent  improbability  of  his 
being  the  murderer ;  the  prisoner  was  devotedly  attached 
to  the  deceased  ;  that  suicide  was  the  more  reasonable 
supposition,  from  the  bad  character  and  habits  of  the  de 
ceased  ;  that  if  the  act  was  done  by  prisoner,  the  same  was 
not  done  by  him  in  a  conscious  state,  and  in  his  waking 
hours. 

From  the  evidence  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner,  it  appeared 
that  he  was  strongly  attached  to  the  deceased,  and  that 
she  was  of  a  violent  temper  ;  once  or  twice  had  taken 
laudanum ;  and  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping  razors,  and 
various  weapons,  in  her  possession.  Seven  witnesses  testi 
fied  that  the  prisoner  had  been  in  the  habit  of  getting  up 
and  walking  in  his  sleep,  from  the  age  of  four  or  five 
years ;  and  while  in  this  state  he  would  sometimes  com 
mit  acts  of  violence,  and  utter  a  peculiar  noise  or  groan. 
Three  medical  gentlemen  of  the  highest  character,  upon 
hearing  this  testimony,  gave  their  opinion  that  the  phe 
nomena  described  were  those  of  that  species  of  disease 
treated  in  medical  books  as  Somnambulism,  the  subjects 
of  which  are  as  unconscious  as  the  victims  of  any  insane 
delusion. 

The  peculiar  noise  heard  in  Lawrence's  yard  on  the 
morning  of  the  27th,  and  described  as  uttered  by  the  per 
son  who  went  out  of  his  door  between  four  and  five  A.  M., 
and  the  peculiar  sounds  uttered  by  Tirrell  on  the  same 
morning,  as  described  by  Head,  the  prisoner's  counsel  con 
tended, — and  the  medical  testimony  sustained  them, — 


HEMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.     223 

might  be  the  sounds  of  a  person  in  the  state  of  somnam 
bulism.  The  medical  witnesses  were  also  of  opinion  that 
the  deceased  might  have  cut  her  own  throat,  and  then 
jumped  from  the  bed  upon  the  floor. 

The  government  called  no  medical  witnesses  in  rebut 
tal. 

Mr.  Choate  closed  for  the  prisoner  in  an  argument  of 
wonderful  ingenuity  and  brilliancy  ;  and  was  followed  by 
Mr.  S.  D.  Parker  for  the  government  in  one  of  those  terse 
arid  cogent  addresses  which  were  peculiar  to  this  able  pros 
ecuting  officer. 

It  is  understood  that  Mr.  Choate  preserved  a  very  full 
copy  of  this  speech.,  which  was  one  of  his  ablest  efforts, 
and  which  it  is  hoped  may  be  given  to  the  public. 

Nothing  could  be  more  happily  expressed  than  when,  in 
his  exordium,  he  alluded  to  the  effect  of  the  verdict  and  the 
absence  of  all  hope  of  pardon  : 

"  Every  juror,  when  he  puts  into  the  urn  the  verdict  of 
Guilty,  writes  upon  it  also, — Let  him  die." 

And  then  what  a  graceful  and  appropriate  peroration, 
in  a  cause  of  life  or  death,  were  these  words  : 

"  Under  the  iron  law  of  old  Kome,  it  was  the  custom 
to  bestow  a  civic  wreath  on  him  who  should  save  the  life 
of  a  citizen.  Do  your  duty  this  day,  Gentlemen,  and  you 
too,  may  deserve  the  civic  crown." 

The  Charge  to  the  jury  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Justice 
Dewey,  who  gave  a  clear  statement  of  the  case,  and  their 
duties.  He  enlarged  somewhat  upon  the  various  points 
of  defense  taken  by  the  prisoner's  counsel  ;  and  on  the 
subject  of  "  somnambulism,"  instructed  the  jury  that  the 
same  principles  would  apply  as  to  a  case  of  insanity.  If 
the  act  was  proved  to  have  been  committed  by  the  pris 
oner,  and  that  he  was  in  this  state  at  the  time,  it  would 


224    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

be  a  good  defense.  The  Charge  was  clear  and  impartial, 
and  was  certainly  favorable  to  the  prisoner,  in  fairly  com 
mitting  to  the  jury  all  his  points  of  defense,  as  matters  for 
their  inquiry  and  determination. 

The  jury  were  absent  in  deliberation  about  tivo  hours, 
and  then  returned  a  verdict  of  "  not  guilty." 

To  a  question  by  Mr.  Parker  for  the  government,  the 
jury  stated  "that  they  had  formed  their  opinion  on  gen 
eral  grounds,  and  had  not  considered  the  question  of  som 
nambulism." 

Tirrell  was  again  put  to  the  bar,  January  llth,  1847, 
on  an  indictment  for  arson,  before  Judges  Shaw,  Wilde, 
and  Dewey.  The  facts  developed  were  substantially  the 
same  as  at  the  trial  for  murder  ;  but  the  government  in 
troduced  a  new  witness,  who  swore  that  she  passed  the 
night  before  the  alleged  murder,  at  Lawrence's  house,  heard 
a  person  going  out  between  four  and  five  A.  M.  of  the  27th 
of  October;  looked  out,  and  saw  that  it  was  Tirrell. 

Chief  Justice  Shaw  charged  the  jury  on  the  various 
points  of  defense  and  the  previous  charge  of  his  associate, 
Mr.  Justice  Dewey.  He  instructed  the  jury  in  view  of  the 
character  of  the  government  witnesses,  and  the  discrepancy 
of  testimony,  that  the  testimony  of  the  Lawrences  and  the 
new  witness  should  not  be  relied  upon,  unless  corroborated 
by  other  evidence. 

The  jury  returned  a  verdict  of  "  not  guilty." 

Tirrell  was  then  sentenced  to  State  prison,  on  the  in 
dictment  then  pending  against  him  for  adultery. 

He  is  now  at  large,  as  is  supposed. 

The  trial  of  Tirrill  must  rank  among  the  celebrated 
cases  of  our  country,  not  only  for  the  great  interest  it  caused 
at  the  time,  but  for  the  extraordinary  ability  displayed  in 
the  defense. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  225 

It  will  always  be  remembered,  also,  for  the  connection 
which  Mr.  Choate  had  with  it,  as  one  of  the  counsel  for 
the  prisoner.  A  great  many  very  excellent  persons  have 
pronounced  their  judgment  of  condemnation  upon  the  emi 
nent  advocate  who  defended  the  prisoner,  as  one  who  had 
misused  his  great  talents  in  securing  from  justice  a  bad 
man  by  a  frivolous  defense.  Some  of  the  clergy  have  occa 
sionally,  in  their  notices  of  the  profession,  alluded  to  this 
case,  and  passed  not  very  charitable  comments  upon  the 
conduct  of  lawyers  who  defended  bad  cases.  But  such 
comments  are  unwarranted  by  the  facts  of  this  case. 

The  very  word  somnambulism,  in  connection  with  this 
case,  has  been  treated  by  some  as  bordering  on  the  ludic 
rous.  Such  persons,  we  feel  sure,  have  never  examined 
into  the  case.  From  the  sketch  which  has  here  been  given 
of  the  trial,  it  will  be  noticed  that  the  prisoner  was  ac 
quitted,  because  the  government  failed  to  make  out  a  case 
against  him  ;  and  Mr.  Choate  had  power  to  make  the  jury 
see  this. 

In  a  case  where  human  life  is  at  stake,  the  law  gives 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar  the  benefit  of  a  doubt ;  and  the 
doubts,  the  uncertainties  and  the  mysteries  of  this  case, 
saved  the  prisoner.  As  intelligent  a  jury  as  ever  sat  in  a 
Suffolk  tribunal,  presided  over  by  one  of  our  oldest  North- 
End  mechanics,  ivere  not  satisfied  that  Tirrell  was  the 
murderer  of  Mrs.  Bickford  ;  and  they  arrived  at  this  con 
clusion  without  examining  the  question  of  somnambulism. 
Surely  it  is  a  legitimate  duty  of  counsel  to  point  out  and 
establish  the  defects  in  the  government  case  under  the  eye 
of  the  Court.  These  defects  in  proof,  the  Court  acknowl 
edged  to  be  proper  subjects  of  comment,  and  entirely  for 
the  jury. 

If  the  case  had  been  otherwise,  and  the  prisoner  had 


226          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

been  acquitted,  because,  on  deliberation,  the  jury  had  found 
that  the  act  had  been  committed  by  the  prisoner  when  he 
was  in  an  unconscious  state — we  have  always  thought  the 
verdict  would  have  been  sustained  by  the  evidence  ;  and 
we  have  the  highest  authority  for  stating  that  the  learned 
Bench  who  tried  the  prisoner  were  satisfied  with  both  ver 
dicts. 

In  fact,  an  eminent  judge,  now  deceased,  who  presided 
at  one  of  these  trials,  stated,  that  in  his  opinion,  it  would 
not  be  safe  to  convict  on  such  testimony  as  that  of  the  gov 
ernment  in  the  arson  case. 

But  to  return  to  the  defense  of  somnambulism,. and  the 
flippant  and  unjust  criticism  which  has  reflected  upon  Mr. 
Choate's  connection  with  it. 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  how  plain  this  whole  mat 
ter  stands,  when  all  the  facts  are  developed.  Mr.  Choate, 
as  we  have  heard  from  his  own  lips,  never  saw  Tirrell,  ex 
cept  in  the  court  house.  Amos  B.  Merrill,  Esq.,  junior 
counsel  of  the  prisoner,  had  known  Tirrell  at  Weymouth, 
several  years  before,  as  one  of  the  pupils  at  his  school. 
While  there  he  became  acquainted  with  the  peculiar  affec 
tion  to  which  Tirrell  was  subject,  and  from  his  own  per 
sonal  observation;  and  knew  that  Tirrell  was  a  sleep-walker 
or  somnambulist.  When  Mr.  Merrill  was  assigned  as  coun 
sel  to  the  prisoner,  he  remembered  this  peculiarity  in  the 
prisoner's  habits,  and  by  investigation  satisfied  himself  of 
its  actual  existence  as  a,  fact. 

The  defense  was  prepared  by  Mr.  Merrill  with  elaborate 
care,  from  interviews  with  the  prisoner  in  his  cell,  and 
with  his  relatives  and  the  medical  gentlemen. 

To  Mr.  Merrill,  Tirrell  declared  his  unconsciousness  of 
committing  any  violence  to  the  deceased.  Mr.  Choate  was 
instructed  by  his  associate  in  the  details  of  the  defense, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     BUFUS     CHOATE.       227 

which  was  sustained  by  competent  testimony,  and  cor 
roborated  by  the  highest  medical  authority.  So  that  it 
would  seem  that  Mr.  Choate  has  not  the  credit  or  discredit 
of  originating  or  "  getting  up"  this  defense. 

The  credible  evidence  was  in  the  case  and  under  the  eye 
of  a  Court  not  prone  to  wink  at  sham  defenses  or  inge 
nious  sophistries.  Mr.  Choate,  relying  upon  this  evidence 
and  the  weakness  of  the  government  case,  triumphantly 
brought  his  client  within  the  limits  of  a  fair  and  legit 
imate  defense.  So  said  the  jury  of  Suffolk  ;  and  in  this 
result  the  Court  acquiesced. 

This  is  one  of  those  cases  bristling  with  difficulties, 
which  Mr.  Choate  loved  to  try  ;  but,  while  he  almost  cov 
eted  the  dangerous  rally  and  the  keen  encounter,  he  always 
wanted  something  real  to  rely  upon.  Like  the  ancient 
philosopher,  give  him  the  place  whereon  to  stand,  and  he 
would  move  the  earth. 

There  were  in  the  Tirrell  case  two  great  facts,  clear  to 
Mr.  Choate's  mind,  which  gave  him  a  strong  hold,  and 
made  him  enthusiastic  and  irresistible. 

The  first  was  what  we  might  call  a  great  pathological 
fact — the  absence  of  motive.  Mr.  Choate  invariably  pro 
tested — that  a  case  of  two  young  persons,  lovers,  devotedly 
attached  to  each  other,  retiring  at  night  in  the  same  apart 
ment,  and  at  early  dawn — without  a  quarrel  or  other  ex 
citement — the  one  waking  up  and  murdering  the  other, 
would  be  a  stupendous  moral  miracle. 

The  other  feature  of  this  history  was,  that  the  prisoner 
was  known  to  be  a  somnambulist.  This,  Mr.  Choate  felt 
to  be  a  fixed  fact.  The  first  fact  was,  in  his  view,  a  suf 
ficient  answer  to  the  government  case  :  the  second  was 
subsidiary,  and  an  aid  in  explaining  the  catastrophe. 

It  is  not  a  little  significant,  thai  ten  months  after  the 


228       REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  . 

acquittal  of  Tirrell  on  the  indictment  for  murder,  and  after 
the  many  strictures  and  censures  which  followed  it,  when 
the  government  had  "been  fully  apprised  of  the  defense 
which  their  representative  professed  to  consider  frivolous 
and  unfounded — the  prisoner  should,  upon  a  charge  of 
arson,  on  the  same  evidence,  before  other  judges  of  the 
same  Court,  and  by  another  jury,  be  again  acquitted. 

From  this  full,  authentic,  and  satisfactory  account  of 
the  facts  and  pleadings  in  this  famous  case  it  will  be  seen 
how  shallow  and  baseless  were  all  strictures  upon  the 
splendid  advocate  who  alone  could  save  the  prisoner  from 
an  unjust  death. 

Ere  I  close  this  chapter  upon  Mr.  Choate's  professional 
life  I  wish  to  add  the  opinion  given  of  him  by  a  man,  him 
self  famous,  a  rival,  a  pure  man,  and  of  the  most  sober 
judgment. 

Judge  Curtis,  late  of  the  United  States  Supreme 
Court — the  judge  whose  name  will  for  ever  be  remem 
bered,  for  delivering  that  dissenting  opinion  which  spoke  the 
thought  of  the  North  upon  theDred  Scott  case — Judge  Cur 
tis  presented  to  the  Massachusetts  Supreme  Court  the  reso 
lutions  of  the  Bar  in  honor  of  the  memory  of  Ivufus  Choate. 
When  presenting  them  he  said,  among  other  things,  these 
words.  They  are  spoken  with  judicial  calmness,  honesty, 
and  honor.  And  they  are  spoken  by  one  who  knew  thor 
oughly  of  what  he  was  speaking — the  subject  and  the  man  : 

"  I  am  aware  that  it  has  sometimes  been  thought,  and 
by  the  thoughtless  or  inexperienced  often  said,  that  from 
his  lips  c  With  fatal  sweetness  elocution  flowed/ 

"  But  they  who  have  thought  or  said  this  have  but  an 
imperfect  notion  of  the  nature  of  our  judicial  controversies, 
or  of  the  ability  for  the  discovery  of  truth  and  justice  which 
may  be  expected  here. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.  229 

"  Such  persons  begin  with  the  false  assumption  that 
in  the  complicated  cases  which  are  brought  to  trial  here, 
one  party  is  altogether  right  and  the  other  altogether 
wron<?.  They  are  ignorant  that  in  nearly  all  cases  there 

O  f  O  v 

is  truth,  and  justice,  and  law  on  both  sides ;  that  it  is 
for  the  tribunal  to  discover  how  much  of  these  belongs  to 
each,  and  to  balance  them,  and  ascertain  which  preponder 
ates  ;  and  that  so  artificial  are  the  greater  portion  of  our 
social  rights,  and  so  complex  the  facts  on  which  they  de 
pend,  that  it  is  only  by  means  of  such  an  investigation  and 
decision  that  it  can  be  certainly  known  on  which  side  the 
real  justice  is.  That,  consequently,  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
advocate  to  manifest  and  enforce  all  the  elements  of  jus 
tice,  truth,  and  law  which  exist  on  one  side,  and  to  take 
care  that  no  false  appearances  of  those  great  realities  are 
exhibited  on  the  other.  That  while  the  zealous  discharge 
of  this  duty  is  consistent  with  the  most  devoted  loyalty  to 
truth  and  justice,  it  calls  for  the  exertion  of  the  highest 
attainments  and  powers  of  the  lawyer  and  the  advocate,' 
in  favor  of  the  particular  party  whose  interests  have  been 
intrusted  to  his  care.  And  if,  from  eloquence,  and  learn 
ing,  and  skill,  and  laborious  preparation,  and  ceaseless  vigi 
lance,  so  preeminent  as  in  Mr.  Choate,  there  might  seem  to 
be  danger  that  the  scales  might  incline  to  the  wrong  side, 
some  compensation  would  be  made  by  the  increased  exer 
tion  to  which  that  seeming  danger  would  naturally  incite 
his  opponents  ;  and  I  am  happy  to  believe  what  he  believed, 
that  as  complete  security  against  wrong  as  the  nature  of 
human  institutions  will  permit,  has  always  been  found  in 
the  steadiness,  intelligence,  love  of  justice,  and  legal  learn-" 
ing  of  the  tribunal  by  which  law  and  fact  are  here  finally 
determined. 

"  I  desire,  therefore,  on  this  occasion,  and  in  this  pres- 


230   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

ence,  and  in  behalf  of  my  brethren  of  this  Bar,  to  declare 
our  appreciation  of  the  injustice  which  would  be  done  to 
this  great  and  eloquent  advocate  by  attributing  to  him  any 
want  of  loyalty  to  truth,  or  any  indifference  to  wrong,  be 
cause  he  employed  all  his  great  powers  and  attainments, 
and  used  to  the  utmost  his  consummate  skill  and  elo 
quence  in  exhibiting  and  enforcing  the  comparative  merits 
of  one  side  of  the  cases  in  which  he  acted.  In  doing  so  he 
but  did  his  duty.  If  other  people  did  theirs;  the  adminis 
tration  of  justice  was  secured." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

CONVERSATIONS  WITH  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

THE  Conversations  detailed  in  this  chapter,  as  was  said 
in  the  Preface,  were  written  down  at  the  time,  or  within 
an  hour  or  two  of  the  time  of  their  utterance.  I  always 
valued  Mr.  Choate's  conversational  advice  and  instruction 
so  highly,  that  in  very  many  instances  I  wrote  it  down  as 
soon  after  leaving  him  as  I  could  reach  pen  and  paper. 

These  thoughts,  it  must  be  remembered,  he  threw  off 
extemporaneously,  without  any  purpose  but  the  immediate 
one  of  pleasing  talk.  It  seems  to  me  they  reveal  the  native 
fiber  of  his  brain,  and  the  mass  of  intellectual  matter  which 
habitually  lay  there,  even  more  fully  than  his  speeches  and 
arguments. 

They  are  arranged  in  the  order  of  time,  as  the  events 
of  his  life  may  perhaps  be  supposed  to  color  or  affect  his 
thoughts. 

1848. 

NOTES     OF      CONVERSATION. 

Mr.  Choate  said,  in  talking  with  me,  one  of  the  most 
essential  things  to  an  advocate  is  the  study  of  style  arid 
language. 

Style  and  Language. — First  and  foremost,  and  all- 
important  in  this  study,  is  Translation.  Translate  every 
day,  pen  in  hand — most  accurately  sifting  words  and  com 
paring  synonyms. 


23:2     UEMINISCENCES     OF      R  UF  U  S      C  II  O  A  T  E . 

Cicero  can  be  rendered  so  easily,  Thucydides  and  Taci 
tus  are  preferable. 

The  object  is  to  enrich  one's  vocabulary,  acquire  a 
flow  of  uncommon  and  not  universally  and  readily  occur 
ring  words.  It  is  easy  to  acquire  a  facile  flow  of  common 
language. 

Burke  (superior  to  Cicero),  Bolingbroke,  Sam  Johnson. 
The  English  prose  writers,  as  well  as  orators,  to  be  perused 
— Shakspeare,  Milton. 

Laiv. — I  advise  you  to  labor  to  become  a  great  lawyer, 
foundation  of  statesmanship.  Study  six  hours  per  diem. 
Grand  resource  of  life.  It  strengthens  mind.  You  should 
attend  Moot  courts. 

History. — English.,  Sharon  Turner  preeminent.  Amen 
ities — Hume  down  to  Stuarts,  good,  though  superficial. 
History  of  Common  Law — later,  better.  Gibbon  to  be 
read  just  as  soon  as  get  ready  for  it.  It  must  be  the  foun 
dation  of  modern  history. 

Classics. — Originals,  to  be  read — Greek  and  Latin — 
chronologically.  Homer  first,  of  Greek;  and  Plautus  of 
Latin.  Modern  and  popular  histories  by  men  who  have 
devoted  lives  to  comparing  conflicting  authorities.  Thirl- 
wall  to  be  read  with  Mitford.  The  first  Whig,  last  Tory. 
Thirlwall  rather  to  be  preferred.  Grote's  new  work  very 
fine  ;  not  quite  so  deep  as  Thirlwall. 

Thus,  in  these  works  which  we  did  read  in  our  youth, 
we  renew,  and  preserve  a  perpetual  childhood — an  eternal 
youth. 

October  3c/,  1848. — Another  conversation  follows  some 
what  the  same  train  of  thought. 

The  Demosthenian  is  the  style  for  oratoric  success 
before  the  people — sharp  and  strong — might  be  less 
bald. 


REMINISCENCES    OF      RUFUS     C II  GATE.      233 

The  Ciceronian  for  literary  and  juridical  forms.  Would 
not  "be  popularly  effective  now. 

Always  prepare,  investigate,  compose  a  speech,  pen  in 
hand.  This  sitting  down  and  just  thinking,  unless  a  man's 
blind,  is  exceptionable.  Having  written  a  speech,  need  not 
confine  yourself  to  it. 

Mr.  Webster  has  always  written  when  he  could  get  a 
chance.  He  has  read  Burke  much.  Shakspeare  studied. 
Milton  not  much — it  is  too  poetical,  with  which  he  has 
little  sympathy. 

Webster  must  be  considered  very  successful  as  a  public 
orator.  Everett  doesn't  warm  us  up  extremely. 

Webster  a  nice  eater — not  a  gross  one.  Youth  is  the 
time  to  husband,  and  not  try  your  constitution. 

August  13,  1849. — This  conversation  illustrates  how 
off-hand  and  ready  all  Mr.  Choate's  classic  thoughts  were. 

He  came  sauntering  into  his  office  in  good  spirits  this 
morning,  and  entered  at  once,  as  if  his  mind  was  brimming, 
into  converse. 

Twiss'  Livy  is  the  one  for  you.  You  mustn't  read  Livy 
with  the  idea  of  getting  any  facts.  It's  all  a  splendid  ro 
mance.  Horace  and  Juvenal  are  for  the  bar.  Virgil  con 
tains  nothing  for  quoting  there,  so  terse,  pithy,  sententious. 
Dean  Swift  worthy  to  be  read  ;  he's  a  writer  who  repels, 
not  one  whom  we  love.  Sam  Johnson  revolutionized  En 
glish,  introduced  a  harmony,  balance,  rhythm,  unknown 
before. 

August  22,  1849. — A  few  days  after  the  foregoing, 
as  he  stood  writing  at  a  desk,  he  stopped  and  seemed  to 
wish  to  relieve  his  dry  legal  annotating,  by  talk.  Asking 
him  some  questions  about  Ireland,  he  replied;  The  Celt  is 
poor  stock. 

The  French  are  very  courageous,  are  impetuous,  mer- 


234  REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS     CHOATE. 

curial,  daring.  Can't  stand  before  the  English.  Beaten 
for  a  thousand  years,  Cressy,  Agincourt.  Fontenoy  was  an 
almost  solitary  exception,  but  it  was  gained  in  great  meas 
ure,  however,  by  the  Irish. 

English — it  is  not  settled  that  they  can  be  driven  back 
by  boarding-pike  or  bayonet  by  Americans.  Thus  the 
Chesapeake  was  carried.  The  Constitution  had  from  one 
to  two  thirds  British  seamen  in  action  with  the  Guerriere. 
Hull  said  he  felt  intense  solicitude  lest  they  should  come 
aft,  and  ask  to  be  excused  from  fighting. 

The  English  is  the  only  breed  that  spontaneously,  not 
conventionally,  resents  the  imputation  of  the  lie. 

September  5. — Choate — Change  of  study,  although 
great  relief,  not  enough,  without  physical  relaxation.  I 
have  worked  hard  this  last  month  of  recreation,  in  general 
studies. 

I  study  harder  when  not  legally  working  than  when  I 
am,  frequently. 

A  man,  by  forty,  achieves  his  main  feats  of  acquisition 
and  training.  I  don't  know  when,  though,  I  have  de 
voured,  been  greedier  for,  had  a  sharper  appetite  for  learn 
ing  and  thought,  than  this  last  month,  or  had  a  keener 
sense  of  the  shortness  of  life. 

Our  general  studies  give  one  such  delightful  trains  of 
thought,  take  us  out  of  our  common  round  of  ideas.  After 
a  fortnight's  trial  of  a  vexing  cause,  beaten  and  dispirited, 
I  have  next  morning  taken  up  my  classic  or  other  books, 
and  in  an  hour  dispelled  the  cloud. 

Napoleon  was  the  greatest  man  since  Crcsar.  I  agree 
with  Professor  Wilson,  the  greatest  for  a  thousand  years. 
Charlemagne  must  be  treated  as  measurably  a  myth. 
The  pictures  of  Napoleon  are  too  smooth  and  handsome, 
not  rugged,  hard  enough. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  235 

Wellington  was  really  surprised  at  Waterloo. 

Not  generally  known  that  the  English  line  during  the 
day  of  Waterloo  retired  several  hundred  yards.  If  Grouchy 
had  kept  Blucher  off,  Napoleon  would  have  beaten. 

I'm  reading  Niebuhr  for  amusement.  Dryest  and  hard 
est  stuff.  Explodes  all  others  but  his  own  construction. 
He  is  questionable,  till  second  Punic  war,  from  imperfec 
tion  of  data. 

September  I5th,  1849. — Choate:  Pinkney  was  one  of  the 
very  greatest  of  lawyers.  Legare  no  practical  tact ;  great 
civilian.  General  Jones  man  of  superior  genius. 

Cassar  had  character  as  well  as  intellect.  (He  in  this 
implied  that  Cicero  had  not.)  A  man  of  more  learning 
than  Bonaparte;  who  was  as  great  a  man,  however. 

Bonaparte  would  call  learned  men  around  him,  and  see 
through  a  thing  at  a  glance. 

His  solacing  himself  with  books,  and  never  complain 
ing,  except  for  effect,  at  St.  Helena,  implied  great  power 
and  magnanimity  of  mind.  He  was  about  as  happy  as  he 
would  have  been  here,  had  he  got  to  America.  He  would 
never  have  been  quiet  here,  for  the  France  which  recalled 
his  ashes  would  have  recalled  his  body. 

Campaign  of  1814  was  his  magnum  opus.  There's 
nothing  like  it  in  modern  war. 

When  he  said  he  was  certain  of  dying,  in  two  years,  at 
St.  Helena,  and  calmly  faced  it,  there  was  yet  a  saving 
doubt  in  his  own  mind. 

Russia  possesses  no  aggressive  power.  No  danger  to 
Europe  from  her. 

September  17th,  1849. — Choate  remarked,  in  conversa 
tion  to-day,  "  I've  read  repeatedly  in  my  youth  till  two 
o'clock  at  night." 


236      REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 


1850. 


Sunday,  February  24th. — Erskine,  Mr.  Choate  said 
to-day,  was,  in  some  degree,  an  example  adverse  to  the 
necessity  of  classic  culture,  for  his  only  classics  were  En 
glish  :  Milton's  poetry,  and  Burke.  Macaulay  is  not  a 
historical  style — an  essayist  ;  his  glitter  wearisome  in  a 
history.  Hume  and  Eobertson  both  superior  for  style. 

A  student  must  eat  little.  He  himself  is  subject, 
every  two  weeks,  to  sick  headache.  Gets  an  hour  a  day, 
for  vigorous  exercise,  at  six  in  the  morning. 

A  great  mind  can't  relax  in  mere  pleasure-hunting, 
long.  One  should  read  in  summer,  but  books  of  a  lighter 
character.  Still  always  pursue  system. 

I  asked  him,  Why  don't  you  go  to  Newport  and  have 
some  fun  ? 

"  If  I  went  to  Newport  with  the  intention  of  abandon 
ing  myself  to  pleasure,  I  should  be  compelled  to  hang  my 
self  by  five  o'clock  in  the  evening."  Still  he  said  he  would 
go  out  of  town  every  summer  ;  a  railroad  would  allow  one's 
mornings  in  town. 

There  has  been  no  day  of  Webster's  life,  for  thirty 
years,  that  his  mind  hasn't  been  laboriously  and  seriously 
exercised.  Eight  or  nine  hours  a  day  enough  for  all  work, 
legal  and  literary. 

Napoleon,  if  he  had  not  been  employed  in  public 
affairs,  would  have  become  a  great  mathematician,  a  La 
Place. 

Csesar,  the  most  remarkable  man  of  the  world;  with  all 
his  revels,  must  have  immensely  labored. 

Society  is  mere  trifling.  One  should  go  into  it  to 
relax  and  to  keep  up  relations  to  it,  and  to  polish  man- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    237 

ners.  If  genius  and  culture  enter  society,  they  throw  off 
their  character  and  bend  to  its  rules. 

Six  hours  a  day  is  as  much  of  a  man's  mind  as  law 
ought  to  have.  After  a  vexatious  case,  half  an  hour's 
reading  of  a  favorite  author  relieves,  and  cheers,  and 
restores  my  mind.  A  man's  great  work,  for  four  years 
after  college,  is  to  perfect  his  mind. 

The  present  political  crisis  is,  says  Mr.  Choate,  the  most 
appalling  of  any  since  the  Union.  There  is  a  great  lack 
of  a  feeling  of  nationality — all  that  keeps  together  ;  but 
the  great  advantage  of  the  federal  league  is  that  it  preserves 
peace. 

But  there  must  be  a  limit  to  our  magnitude.  When 
the  foreign  relations  of  the  different  parts  become  decidedly 
antagonistic,  that  is  the  barrier  and  the  limit. 

The  Union  can't  endure  for  ever.  If  this  crisis  is  sur 
vived,  it  may  go  on  for  one  hundred  years. 

Massachusetts  politics  are  narrow.  In  a  moral  point  of 
view,  she  has  no  right  to  touch  the  subject  of  slavery. 
These  zealots  forget  that  there  may  be  conflicting  duties, 
and  that  it  is  duty  to  support  the  compromise  of  slavery, 
to  secure  universal  peace  and  prosperity.  Massachusetts 
continually  breaks  the  fcedus.  Southern  States  homoge 
neous  in  productions  and  characters  peculiarly  adapted  to 
form  a  separate  State.  Southern  leaders  are  now  busy,  (he 
said  ironically,)  on  that  really  delightful  task,  the  creation 
of  a  new  Commonwealth.  Winthrop  thinks,  on  the  whole, 
this  crisis  will  be  surmounted. 

May  12,  1850. — Had  a  long  interview  with  Choate  this 
afternoon  in  his  library. 

New  England,  he  says,  is  somewhat  anti-progressive  ; 
against  acquisition  of  territory  ;  free  trade.  She  should 


238       REMINISCENCES     OF     BUFUS     CHOATE. 

catch  that  great  gale  of  impulse,  enthusiasm  and  enterprise, 
which  is  ever  agitating  and  giving  tone  to  America. 

Mr.  Webster  and  Mr.  Clay  have  their  distinct  depart 
ments — Mr.  Webster,  the  philosopher  ;  Clay,  the  man  of 
action.  The  former  should  write  the  state  and  diplomatic 
papers  and  legal  opinions  of  an  administration  ;  the  latter 
should  carry  it  on.  As  a  leader  of  a  party,  knowing  on 
just  what  ground  to  lead  them,  what  issues,  and  how  to 
present  them,  Clay  is  unrivaled  in  this  country. 

In  the  Jackson  day,  Clay  thought  the  bank  issue  should 
be  taken  out  of  view,  and  was  clearly  right  in  opposition 
to  Webster ;  for  the  latter  didn't  discover,  as  usual,  till 
too  late,  that  sentiment  had  changed. 

Mr.  Webster  has  been  at  least  twelve  years  behind  his 
glory  and  his  country.  He  didn't  find  out  till  well  ad 
vanced  that  he  stood  a  chance  for  the  Presidency.  Mean 
while,  he  had  hit  right  and  left,  and  made  many  enemies. 
He  had,  moreover,  got  a  set  of  cold  New  England  manners, 
and  had  thoroughly  conformed  himself  for  home  consump 
tion.  But  Clay  has  had  the  presidency  in  view  from  the  first. 
-  Clay  patiently  spins  again  the  broken  web  of  his  schemes. 
I'm  glad  he's  there  in  the  Senate.  Can  compromise,  if  any 
one  can. 

The  defense  in  the  Tirrell  case,  of  somnambulism,  was 
suggested  to  me  by  the  friends  of  the  accused  on  my  first 
retainer. 

The  defense  of  Professor  Webster  I  wouldn't  have  any 
thing  to  do  with,  because  they  wouldn't  admit  it  to  be 
manslaughter.  On  that  I  would  have  taken  my  stand. 

Sir  Henry  Bulwer  is  the  second  diplomat  in  England, 
Sir  Stratford  Canning  the  first.  He  is  at  Constantinople, 
the  point  of  contact  with  the  other  great  power  of  Europe, 
Kussia. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   239 

September  24th. — Saw  Mr.  Choate  for  the  first  time 
since  his  return  from  Europe. 

He  enjoyed  himself  rarely,  spending  most  of  his  time 
in  viewing  the  localities  of  the  Continent  in  preference  to 
the  dinners  of  London.  He  thinks  he  should  never  have 
time  to  visit  any  part  of  Europe  again  but  Italy  and 
Kome,  which  he  did  not  see.  Our  conversation  was  gen 
eral. 

He  showed  me  a  new  and  immense  edition  of  Everett. 
The  portrait  therein  he  thought  fine,  "  full  of  his  earlier 
hope/'  Everett,  he  said,  announces  a  work  on  International 
Law.  The  field  is  too  much  occupied.  Mackintosh's  Kec- 
lamation  and  Wheaton  cover  all.  The  great  question  of 
neutrals  and  belligerents  on  the  seas  is  the  main  modern 
question;  and  that  is  yet  open,  to  be  settled  by  war,  etc. 

Webster  has  as  living  and  enduring  a  reputation  as 
that  kind  of  fame  ever  reaches.  Brougham  has  more  tal 
ent,  and  is  less  self-indulgent,  but  will  not  live  so  long  in 
memory. 

A  book,  however,  is  the  only  immortality. 

Thinks  Webster  is  no  coward.  His  last  effort  on  the 
compromise,  by  which  "  he  saved  the  South/'  does  not 
look  so. 

In  the  outset  of  his  career,  his  Federalism  differed  from 
his  allies.  He  was  opposed  to  Hartford  Convention.  His 
life  has  been  fettered. 

Clay's  reputation  he  thinks  is  ephemeral.  He  has 
allied  himself  with  no  living  and  continuing  course  of 
policy.  Tariff  which  is  his,  is  questionable  in  policy. 
His  speeches,  however,  show  sagacity  and  wisdom,  and 
read  full  as  well  as  the  younger  Pitt's. 

Erskine  will  live  in  the  speeches  reported  by  himself. 
Cicero  in  his  eternal  writings.  Though  later  writers  of 


240  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

the  last  thirty  years  are  disposed  not  to  side  with  Middle- 
ton,  but  to  hold  Cicero  to  have  been  a  coward  and  trim 
mer. 

He  says  he  saw  Macaulay  and  Brougham  very  satisfac 
torily.  The  former  is  a  most  impressive  man  ;  his  talk  is 
epigrammatic  and  dominant.  His  MSS.  is  very  blotted, 
every  third  word  corrected — his  conversation  is  a  trans 
cript  of  his  style. 

He  talked  with  me  (Choate)  about  the  England  of 
Addison  compared  with  the  England  of  the  present. 

The  portrait  of  him  in  the  American  edition  of  his 
History  is  good. 

Speaking  of  an  English  statesman,  Choate  said  :  His 
habits  are  so  bad  it's  an  even  chance  he'll  be  drunk  at  a  party. 
He's  no  excuse  for  debauchery,  in  his  age,  for  he  has  all 
learning  to  fall  back  on  ;  all  fine  and  sweet  and  great  veins 
of  thought.  These  Erskine  had  not ;  and  when  he  left  his 
practice,  his  senility  and  vacuity  combined  against  him. 

Erskine  spoke  the  best  English  ever  spoken  by  an 
advocate.  It  was  learned  from  Burke  and  Milton. 
It's  the  finest,  richest,  and  most  remarkable  English  ex 
tant.  /  (Choate)  have  read  a  page  aloud  (clard  voce,  not 
viva  voce)  since  my  return,  daily. 

Burke  will  live  for  ever. 

Brougham's  style  is  very  classic.  A  classic  idiom  is 
beautiful  incorporated  in  English.  His  Keform  speech  pero 
ration  is  fully  Ciceronian.  "  To  me  much  meditating." 
Webster's  idiom  is  not  at  all  classic.  His  classics  were 
laid  on  late  in  life.  He  knows  that  the  ancients  spoke 
grandly  and  simply;  but  what  he  speaks  is  his  own  nat 
ural  style. 

I  have  bought  $500  worth  of  books  abroad. 

I  (Choate)  like  law,  because,  being  of  positive  nature, 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  241 

it  is — unlike  morals  and  politics — sure  ground.  You 
feel  a  degree  of  certainty  in  reading  the  exposition  of  a 
topic. 

Still,  it  is  learning  we  can't  cany  to  another  state  of 
existence.  A  mind  not  naturally  fond  of  it  may  cultivate 
a  liking.  After  sixty,  one  don't  like  to  study  any  thing. 
A  mind  confined  exclusively  to  law  is  narrow,  arid  not  of  «i 
high  order.  Other  and  various  learning  indispensable,  as 
we  gather  clearness  from  seeing  things  in  various  relations. 
Coke  and  Bacon  were  universally  learned. 

Six  hours  a  day,  four  of  study  and  two  of  lucubration 
and  legal  talk,  are  amply  enough.  The  mind  burdened, 
loses  its  memory  and  alacrity,  and  originality.  The  legal 
mind  and  subject  is  not  the  highest.  But  Law  is  the  true 
training  of  the  statesman,  both  for  its  learning  and  the 
habits  of  mind  it  begets.  Both  may  be  kept  up;  as  in 
Webster,  politics  and  law  ;  though  the  world  usually  re 
venges  itself  for  a  double  repute,  by  attributing  superfici 
ality  in  one  branch  to  the  owner. 

For  the  jury,  it  is  a  blunder  to  profess  to  "just  come 
into  the  case,"  etc. ;  you  want  to  impress  them  with  the 
idea  that  you  have  studied  it  deeply. 

Webster  concentrates  his  thought  in  writing,  in  his 
brief,  in  a  few  compact  and  telling  propositions,  by  enun 
ciating  which  from  the  paper,  at  the  close,  he  presents  his 
thought  with  great  power. 

Generally  the  object  at  the  Bar  must  be  to  present 
common  things  in  an  uncommon  and  striking  way.  His 
biographer  was  not  quite  lawyer  enough  to  write  "  Wirt's 
Life/'  though  it's  a  very  good  and  well-written  affair. 

You  ought  to  read  Tacitus  over  and  over  to  catch  his 
idiom — a  certain  exact  fidelity  to  the  original  is  essential, 
to  improve  by  it.  In  the  Annals,  particular  lives  are  more 

11 


242  UEMINISCENCES     OF    KUFUS      CHOATE. 

valuable  ;  Tiberias  is  exquisitely  drawn — so  much  better 
than  Suetonius. 

These  terse  writers  have  the  style  which  the  Bar  should 
affect ;  the  Ciceronian  is  too  diffuse  and  loose. 

Sallust  ought  to  be  studied  and  written,  particularly 
his  Introductions.  He  was  as  much  of  a  roue  and  blasd 
as  Solomon;  and  speaks  as  he  would. 

Quintilian  is  admirable.  He  gives  more  of  the  art  of 
rhetoric;  and  you  catch  from  him  more  of  the  trick  of  the 
trade. 

Speeches  of  Thucydides  worthy  of  close  study;  but 
the  course  of  the  narrative  is  so  even  and  uniform  as  to  be 
hardly  so  improving  as  others. 

Professor  Webster's  confession.,  he  (Choate)  says,  ad 
mits  murder  in  law.  I,  said  Choate,  never  would  have  let 
him  so  word  it. 

Sir  Robert  Peel,  says  a  writer  in  Blackwood,  probably 
Alison,  had  an  adaptive,  not  a  creative  mind.  Indeed,  a 
governing  statesman  in  a  popular  government  of  a  ma 
jority  must  be  such  ;  for  the  policy  of  an  age,  the  opinion 
of  the  majority,  is  the  result  of  the  thought  of  fifty  years 
previous.  It  takes  that  time,  for  the  reasonings  of  great 
and  original  thinkers  to  become  popularized.  It  takes  that 
time,  for  the  stream  to  flow  down  from  the  mountain 
sources  over  the  level  and  wide  plain.  An  original  states 
man  far  in  advance  of  his  age,  therefore,  can  not  govern  his 
own  generation,  but  will  govern  the  succeeding  one. 

Peel  had  not,  either,  that  heroic  order  of  mind  which 
wins  the  support  most  delightful  to  the  magnanimous 
spirit,  that  of  free,  unrewarded  admiration.  His  eloquence 
lacked  the  divina  mens,  the  burning  enthusiasm,  the 
breathing  thoughts  which  sweep  like  tempests  over 
minds. 


REMINISCENCES     OF    BUFUS    CHOATE.     243 

December  22d. — A  long  conversation  with  Mr.  Choate 
on  Eloquence  and  Law  to-day. 

Pope,  in  English,  Horace,  in  Latin,  have  the  mastery 
of  the  finesses — the  exquisite  niceties,  the  curiosa  felicitas 
of  speech. 

I  am  very  much  in  favor  of  translating  from  the  class 
ics,  as  an  oratoric  preparation  ;  habitual. 

Writing  parts  of  speeches  is  very  important.  This 
every  orator,  from  Cicero  down,  commends.  It  prevents 
one's  speech  growing  common,  and  colloquial,  and  flatting 
out. 

Mistake  to  think  Burke  was  not  in  his  prime  a  great 
orator.  Gibbon  says  he  listened  to  him  with  infinite 
delight.  In  his  later  productions,  as  he  was  more  imag 
inative,  so  he  was  more  balanced  and  rhythmical  in  his 
periods  and  sentences.  Undoubtedly  this  balance  and 
harmony  of  period,  a  musical  and  rounding  act,  is  neces 
sary  to  hold  the  attention  of  the  audience  very  long. 

The  balanced  period  of  Macaulay,  Johnson  and  Gib 
bon  differs  from  Burke' s  balance  of  sentence  as  the  speaker 
differs  from  the  writer.  Each  phrase  of  theirs  is  independ 
ent,  except  by  the  connection  of  thought.  You're  com 
pelled,  in  reading  it  aloud,  to  close  up  at  the  end  of  every 
sentence. 

Reading  Burke  aloud  is  a  capital  exercise. 

Harrison  Gray  Otis  had  this  balance  and  harmony  of 
period  to  a  very  high  extent.  He  had  also  a  peculiar 
expression  of  voice  sometimes  which  I  can't  describe  ;  but 
it  was  obvious  even  at  his  dinners. 

Tristram  Burgess  had  it,  and  perhaps  it  was  the  pecu 
liarity  of  a  school.  It  was  the  expression  of  high  breeding. 

Erskine  was  a  very  vehement  speaker.  A  gentleman 
who  heard  him  told  me  (Choate)  that  he  has  frequently 


244    REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

seen  him,  in  addressing  a,  jury,  jump  up  and  knock  his  feet 
together  before  he  touched  the  floor  again ;  and,  indeed, 
how  could  he  have  carried  off  many  things  which  occur  in 
his  speeches  except  by  great  vehemence,  such  as  "  I  trem 
ble  at  the  thought  !"  The  Indian  in  Stockdale's  case!  and 
"  I  will  bring  him  before  the  court !"  and  again,  "  By 
God,  the  man  who  says  this  is  a  ruffian." 

Erskine  was,  however,  very  judicious  in  his  forensic 
flights  ;  never  made  a  blunder. 

The  management  of  his  case,  too,  was  admirable.  Mas 
ter  of  every  art,  and  trick,  and  subtlety  and  contrivance, 
But,  after  all,  he  was  a  very  singular,  and,  in  some  degree, 
an  inexplicable  fellow. 

Of  a  great  English  statesman  Choate  said,  He  is  not,  in 
my  judgment,  worthy  the  name  of  orator.  He  has  no 
heart,  and  can  not,  therefore,  be  an  orator.  He  is  an 
unprincipled  man.  He  is  pedantic.  One  of  his  passages, 
I  remember,  is  stolen  bodily  from  Cicero.  He  frequently 
steals  whole  pages,  which,  by  his  tremendous  vehemence, 
he  so  incorporates  into  his  spoken  delivery  that  it  is  not 
suspected, 

Webster,  in  his  prime,  was  a  prodigious  orator,  I 
think.  He  has  to  some  degree  a  balance  of  period.  He 
can  give  an  effect,  though,  to  single  passages,  greater  than 
any  man  I  ever  saw.  Webster,  in  his  prime,  was  far  more 
spirited  than  now.  You  can  perceive  his  falling  off  even 
in  conversation. 

Clay  was  a  great  orator.  His  language  was  such  as  an 
absorbing  mind  would  naturally  pick  up  in  thirty  years' 
intimacy  with  thorough-bred  men.  It  is  quite  equal  to 
William  Pitt's. 

I  have  seen  him  io  the  middle  of  a  speech  in  the  Sen- 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.  245 

ate  completely  flabbergasted  for  want  of  a  pinch  of  snuff. 
That  is  the  only  stimulus  I  ever  knew  him  use. 

Demosthenes  had,  in  addition  to  iron  logic  and  massive 
reason,  an  awful  vehemence,  perfectly  tempestuous  and 
boisterous ;  a  diction,  every  word  of  which  was  clean  cut 
and  sterling,  like  stamped  gold ;  a  harmony  of  numbers 
also.  Legare's  article  in  the  New  York  Keview  on  him,  is 
the  best  thing  ever  written  in  English  about  him.  He  was 
very  common  sense  and  straightforward. 

Calhoun  was  a  great  reasoner  and  logician ;  arid  as  a 
desert,  no  pretensions  to  genuine  eloquence.  He  stood  up 
straight,  and  spoke  clearly  some  thirty  minutes,  generally. 
He  spoke  as  Euclid  would  have  spoken.  He  was  full 
of  fine-spun  distinction  ;  lacked,  in  later  days,  common 
sense. 

He  lived  two  lives  ;  for,  being  Monroe's  Secretary  of 
War,  he  expected  to  succeed  J.  Q.  Adams  as  President. 
At  that  time  he  was  altogether  the  first  young  man  in  the 
nation.  But  when  Jackson  came  up,  he  saw — for  he  had 
perfect  sagacity,  and  could  see  a  great  way  into  the  future 
— that  his  day  was  over,  his  chance  was  gone.  From  that 
time  he  became  one-sided,  mischievous,  and  making  good 
evil,  always.  He  had  no  generous  joys:  was  of  a  saturnine 
cast.  He  was  not,  perhaps,  willfully  wicked;  but  he  was 
disappointed  to  death. 

Law. — Unless  one  takes  hold  of  the  law  with  determina 
tion  to  be  a  great  lawyer,  it's  a  poor  concern,  and  uninter 
esting  ;  but  a  love  of  it  may  be  begotten.  After  mastering 
its  rudiments,  it  is,  with  all  its  rewards,  as  interesting  and 
attractive  as  any  other  department  of  serious,  laborious 
thought. 

For  five  or  six  years  at  the  beginning  I  gave  myself 
wholly  to  it,  which  is  essential  to  making  progress  in  it. 


246  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

The  mind  capable  of  excelling  in  moral  philosophy  or  in 
pure  mathematics,  ought  to  succeed  in  law. 

I  recommend  Common-placing  in  law,  not  writing  a 
digest  or  cream  of  what  you  read  ;  but  mention,  under 
proper  heads,  in  legal  common-place  book,  a  good  author 
ity,  etc.,  a  good  point,  a  good  analysis,  a  good  conclusion. 

An  admirable  practice  is  to  take  a  case  in  the  books, 
read  the  arguments  and  judgment,  and  make  out  a  regular 
brief,  having  consulted  all  the  authorities,  etc.,  just  exactly 
as  if  you  were  about  to  argue  it  before  the  Bench.  This 
is  eminently  useful,  as  fixing  the  points  and  cases  eternal  in 
mind,  and  is  an  admirable  discipline  in  legal  speech,  legal 
forensics,  legal  address.  Its  only  difficulty  is,  the  time  it 
consumes.  I  (Choate)  did  it  in  summer,  in  the  long  vaca 
tion.  I  have  kept  it  up  till  lately. 

I  (Choate)  never  read  a  new  book,  as,  for  instance,  a 
Patent  Book,  even  now,  without  breaking  it  more  or  less 
into  two  or  three  legal  common-place  books. 

To  read  a  book  straight  through  is  stupid  indeed.  But 
you  may  make  it  the  guide  to  an  examination  and  study  of 
the  subject  it  treats  of — as,  for  example,  "  Long  on  Sales.'" 
Consult  cases  therein  referred  to,  and  Chitty  on  Contracts, 
etc. 

Lord  Brougham's  "  Statesmen"  is  a  very  shallow  work. 

Another  conversation,  about  the  same  time,  bears  no 
date.  It  is  as  follows  : 

Mr.  Choate  says,  Judge  Woodbury  is  in  many  respects 
remarkable.  Used  to  study  sixteen  hours  a  day,  always  very 
laborious — traveled  with  book — studies  too  much — over 
tasks  and  clouds  his  mind.  He  has,  from  his  original  ele 
vation  to  the  Bench  at  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  disciplined 
and  improved  his  mind  by  written  compositions.  They 
are  well  considered  as  opinions,  contentious  as  arguments. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE.     247 

A  man  may  read  without  much  growth  of  mind,  or 
accession  of  power.  Woodbury  is  the  next  democratic 
candidate  for  the  presidency;  probably. 

Used  to  sleep  on  a  board,  in  order  not  to  prolong  his 
repose.  Had  a  mirror  full  length  to  practice  speaking  be 
fore. 

He  was  of  a  liberally  disposed  mind.  Smithsonian,  etc., 
he  always  favored;  but  singularly  deficient  in  taste  and 
accomplishments  in  the  belles  lettres,  and  polite  letters,  and 
literature  generally. 

Judge  Story,  by  hard  study,  produced  himself  far  be 
yond  his  early  promise.  He  and  J.  Q.  Adams  both  grew 
stronger  as  they  grew  older.  He  rose  from  each  "  opinion/' 
bigger  than  before. 


1851. 

March. — Mr.  Choate  said  recently  that  even  now,  he 
practices  (in  summer  leisure)  the  writing  out  a  law  point, 
so  as  to  present  it  in  the  most  effective  manner  to  The  Court, 
simply  as  a  discipline. 

He  remarked,  When  I  was  with  Wirt,  I  heard  Pinkney 
speak  three  days.  The  first  two  days  he  tore  himself  all 
to  pieces  ;  but  the  third  day,  with  his  vast  command  of 
words  rolling  out,  it  was  inexpressible  music.  He  had  a 
tough  head. 

1852. 

January  4th. — Talking  with  Mr.  Choate  to-day  about 
the  dryness  and  sluggishness  of  mind  which  the  exclusive 
study  of  law  produces,  he  said,  That  is  most  natural. 
The  study  of  law,  like  the  study  of  any  severe  abstract 


248          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

science,  takes  a  man  out  of  connection  with  the  common 
thoughts  of  men,  and  out  of  sympathy  with  the  common 
heart.  Intrinsically.,  too,  it  is  deadening  to  the  feelings, 
and  dwarfing  to  the  imagination. 

A  youth  just  graduated  has  a  vast  advantage  over  a 
new-fledged  lawyer.  His  classics  are  all  fresh,  his  senti 
ments  warm  and  high,  and  he  is  unfettered  by  a  complexity 
of  rules,  either  from  science  or  from  decorum. 

The  English  bar  have  made  just  this  mistake.  Gradu 
ating  from  college,  full  of  fervor  and  inspiriting  thought, 
they  soon  observe  that  a  man  is  nothing  unless  he  concen 
ters  his  total  energy  on  some  point.  Accordingly,  they 
bend  to  the  law.  It  demands,  at  first,  an  exclusive  devo 
tion.  Two  or  three  years  are  thus  passed.  The  founda 
tions  of  a  legal  mind  are  thus  laid,  but  all  eloquent  stir 
rings  and  impulses  of  mind  are  scotched.  If  now  the 
student  would  revert  to  and  revive  his  classics  and  im 
agination,  his  impulsive  sentiments  and  his  high  ardors; 
and  if  he  would  carry  on  this  process  pari  passu  with  his 
dry  and  killing  law,  he  would  become,  as  might  many  an 
English  barrister  who  is  a  mere  barrister,  a  great  advo 
cate.  But  the  English  bar,  when,  at  the  close  of  their 
severe  groundwork  preparatory  study,  they  found  them 
selves  husky  and  barren,  plunged  deeper  into  the  desert 
of  bare  law,  and  were  never  heard  of  more  save  in  the 
courts.  Many  of  them  graduated  with  all  the  foundations 
laid  for  an  accomplished,  eloquent  man — they  became  mere 
lawyers. 

The  culture  of  expression  should  be  a  specific  study, 
quite  distinct  from  the  invention  of  thought.  Language 
and  its  elements,  words,  are  to  be  mastered  by  direct, 
earnest  labor.  A  speaker  ought  daily  to  exercise  and  air 
his  vocabulary,  and  also  to  add  to  and  enrich  it.  Transla- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          249 

tion  should  be  pursued  with  these  two  objects,  to  bring  up 
to  the  mind  and  employ  all  the  words  you  already  own, 
and  to  tax  and  torment  invention  and  discovery  and  the 
very  deepest  memory,  for  additional,  rich,  and  admirably 
expressive  words.  In  translating,  the  student  should  not 
put  down  a  word  till  he  has  thought  of  at  least  six  syn 
onyms  or  varieties  of  expression,  for  the  idea.  I  would 
have  him  fastidious  and  eager  enough  to  go;  not  unfre- 
quently,  half  round  his  library  pulling  down  books,  to 
hunt  up  a  word — the  word. 

Dictionaries  are  of  great  service  in  this  filling  up  and 
fertilizing  of  diction.  Pinkney  had  all  the  dictionaries  which 
he  could  buy,  from  Eichardson  to  Webster.  You  don't 
want  a  diction  gathered  from  the  newspapers,  caught  from 
the  air,  common  and  unsuggestive;  but  you  want  one  whose 
every  word  is  full  freighted  with  suggestion  and  associa 
tion,  with  beauty  and  power.  If  you  want  to  see  the  power 
derived  from  words,  read  one  of  Pinkney's  early  speeches 
made  before  he  visited  England,  and  one  of  his  last  when 
he  reigned  monarch  of  the  Bar.  I  heard  his  last  great  argu 
ment,  when,  by  his  over  work,  he  snapped  the  cord  of  his 
life.  His  diction  was  splendidly  rich,  copious,  and  flowing. 
Webster  followed  him,  but  I  could  not  help  thinking  he 
was  infinitely  dry,  barren,  and  jejune. 

Webster  uses  common  words,  but  yet  of  them  he  strives 
for  those  which  are  pictorial  and  full-freighted. 

Judge  Story's  English  was  very  common  place  and 
wishy-washy.  His  was  a  mere  fluency,  a  rattle-clap  com 
mon  English.  He  never  had  time,  amid  his  splendid  legal 
accomplishments,  to  enlarge  his  vocabulary. 

In  addition  to  translating,  talking  is  an  excellent  dis 
cipline.  It  exercises  all  those  words  which  one  has  at 
ready  command.  You  want  to  use  your  stock  continually, 

11* 


250          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFTJS    C II  GATE. 

or  it  will  rust.  Buchanan,  the  foreign  missionary,  once  ob 
served  that  he  doubted  not,  he  had  laid  up  in  his  memory 
one  hundred  thousand  words,  which  were  never  employed  ; 
but  which,  by  a  little  use,  he  would  fully  command.  The 
English  of  Shakspeare — that  is,  the  diction — Choate  said 
he  esteemed  very  common. 

Style,  or  an  "  elegant  method  of  arranging  the  thought, 
is  powerful  to  persuade  as  well  as  to  please/'  as  says  Sir 
William  Jones.  Upon  the  vast  importance  of  this,  Choate 
entirely  coincides  with  him.  He  says,  for  instance,  the 
narrative  of  a  simple  assault  case  will  instantly  reveal 
the  true  artist.  Cicero  is  undoubtedly  the  best  orator  to 
study  for  oratorio  arrangement  of  the  leading  thoughts,  and 
the  minor  thoughts  ;  and  for  the  divisions,  sentences,  and 
members  of  sentences.  Tacitus  is  obviously  composed  for 
the  eye,  not  the  ear. 

The  laws  of  arrangement  of  thought,  big  and  little.,  are 
prescribed  by  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  and 
multiply  the  power  of  the  thoughts,  with  the  most  illit 
erate.  The  general  structure  and  the  detailed  making  up 
should  tend  to  the  climax  ;  the  thought,  of  divisions  of 
discourse,  and  of  the  sentences,  continually  rising  and  swell 
ing  to  the  close.  The  literal  climax  itself  is  a  very  ener 
getic  arrangement  of  an  idea.  The  antithesis — the  power 
ful  contrast  of  different  thoughts  and  of  different  features 
of  the  same  thought — is  valuable  for  vivacity.  Very  effect 
ive,  also,  is  the  epithet — a  truly  great  arm  of  assault. 

William  Pitt  was  indebted  for  his  charm  of  oratory 
mainly  to  his  voice  and  his  periods.  These  were  equally 
and  sometimes  beautifully  balanced,  and  most  harmoni 
ously  constructed.  The  musical  tide  rode  on  with  a  fine 
flow. 
|  Macaulay's  speeches,  with  their  exquisite  art  of  com- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUtfUS     CIIOATE.          251 

position,  were,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  very  effective 
and  captivating. 

A  Lawyer  should  maintain  a  daily  converse  with  Cicero 
arid  the  ancients  ;  but  as  their  turn  of  mind  was  in  many  re 
spects  so  different  from  ours,  it  is  important  to  qualify  and 
correct  their  influences  by  an  equally  constant  and  unflag 
ging  study  of  great  modern  orators,  their  thoughts,  and 
their  expressions.  I  would  at  all  times,  therefore,  have  by 
me  some  one  modern  orator,  in  whom  at  least  a  page  should 
be  read  daily. 

But  with  this  cultivation  of  words  and  sentences — this 
Ciceronian  analysis  of  the  whole  art  of  composition,  one 
must  remember  that  he  needs  to  be  for  ever  loading  and 
storing  the  mind  tvith  thoughts.  The  whole  range  of  polite 
literature  should  be  vexed  for  them.  They  are  the  mate 
rials,  the  topics,  out  of  which  illustration  and  argument 
spring.  Bead  Bacon  ;  Burke  is  all  out  of  Bacon.  Read 
Grattan  and  Sheridan  ;  they  are  good  suygestives.  Also, 
diligently  turn  (vcrsate  mami)  Lord  Erskine.  Fox  is  to 
be  read.  He  had  ten  times  the  genius  of  Pitt,  in  whom 
very  little  genuine  eloquence  shines.  Burke,  of  course. 
Although  he  was  not  always  appreciated  by  the  House 
of  Commons,  which  was  then  a  mere  mob,  he  would  to 
day,  in  our  Senate,  be  listened  to  with  tears.  He  was 
often  too  long,  though,  it  must  be  admitted. 

Chatham's  studies  were  very  wide.  His  English  is 
vastly  before  his  son's. 

A  man  should  pre-write  his  speeches,  for  several  rea 
sons  ;  one,  that  you  may  be  sure  you  get  to  the  bottom  of 
your  subject,  and  thoroughly  understand  it,  through  and 
through,  a  mastery  which  you  can't  be  sure  of  in  any  other 
way.  Another  reason  is,  that  you  may  have,  in  speaking, 
the  confidence  and  ease  flowing  from  the  certainty  that 


252    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

you  can't  Ireak  down  ;  and,  once  more,  that  you  may 
fully  know  the  whole  field  you  are  about  traveling  over  in 
speech,  and  the  precise  relation  to  the  whole  of  each  part. 
Besides,  extempore  discourse  must  always  be  unequal  and 
uncertain. 

The  question  as  to  the  advantage  of  pre-writing  must 
now  be  considered  as  settled.  Whitefield,  field-preacher  as 
he  was,  nevertheless  preached  his  sermon  the  tenth  time 
far  better  than  the  first. 

This  written  matter  must  be  well-memorized  in  mind, 
even  though  as  in  the  case  of  a  lecture,  the  papers  lie 
before  you.  For  no  matter,  can  be  well  delivered  that  does 
not  lie  more  fully  in  the  mind  than  the  eye,  in  an  instant, 
is  able  to  lodge  it  there. 

And  now,  to  complete  and  finish  this  oratorio  disci 
pline,  there  must  be  practice  in  Elocution.  Chesterfield, 
in  his  letters  to  his  son,  said,  "  Manner  is  of  as  much  im 
portance  as  matter."  He  said  he  at  one  time  determined 
to  make  himself  the  best  speaker  in  Parliament,  and  he 
made  himself  so.  The  emphases  and  the  cadences  are  to 
be  severely  attended  to  ;  and  also  the  fall  of  the  voice  on 
the  close  of  the  members  of  sentences. 

After  a  speech  is  all  prepared,  then,  just  before  speak 
ing,  it  ought  to  be  warmed  up  in  the  mind. 

Earnestness  is  always  essential ;  by  which  I  mean, 
being  wide-awake  and  spirited. 

The  maxim  "  orator  fit"  is  undoubtedly  true.  With 
fair  natural  gifts,  there's  many  a  man  who  could  make 
himself  an  orator. 

Mr.  Webster's  best  oratorical  effort  was  the  Adams  and 
Jefferson  eulogy.  That  produced  an  extraordinary  effect. 

There  is  an  anecdote  of  Hamilton,  illustrating  what  I 
have  said  of  the  value  of  writing  as  a  preparative,  in  re- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE.       253 

spect  to  full  and  deep  thought ;  Hamilton  made  the  great 
est  argument  ever  uttered  in  this  country.  It  was  on  the 
law  of  libel,  and  by  it  he  stamped  upon  the  mind  of  this 
country,  the  principle  that  in  an  action  for  libel,  the  truth, 
if  uttered  without  malice,  was  a  justification.  Upon  the 
night  previous  to  the  argument,  he  wrote  out  every  word 
of  it ;  then  he  tore  it  up.  He  was,  by  writing,  fully  pre 
pared  ;  it  lay  very  fully  in  his  mind  ;  and,  not  to  be  cramped 
and  fettered  by  a  precise  verbal  exactness,  he  tore  it  to 
pieces.  Then  he  spoke  and  conquered. 

One  thing  unlocks  the  secret  of  Pinkney's  intellectual 
affluence.  He  made  it  a  rule,  from  his  youth,  never  to  see 
a  fine  idea  without  committing  it  to  memory. 

When  in  England,  he  had  a  splendid  schooling. 
Burke's  tradition  was  still  fresh.  Pitt  and  Fox  were  in 
their  glory.  Siddons  and  Kemble  trod  the  boards,  and 
Erskine  filled  the  forum.  However  he  pretended  to  depre 
ciate  Erskine,  he  always  took  care  to  hear  him. 

Bolingbroke  is  rich  and  glorious.  Showing  me  a  very 
fine  engraving  of  him,  he  observed  that  he  had  a  Ccesarcan 
head. 

He  remarked  that  Kossuth  was  truly  a  most  eloquent 
man.  His  prayer,  and  his  speech  in  England,  when  he 
paused — "I  thought  I  saw  again  the  millions  of  my  native 
land,  and  heard  them  shout — Liberty  or  Death  ;"  these  he 
considers  the  most  eloquent  passages  which  he  has  seen  of 
his  speeches. 

The  Bar  dinner  to  him  in  New  York  was  not  attended 
by  very  many  of  the  lawyers.  They  sold  their  tickets, 
and  consequently  the  audience  which  hissed  Judge  Duer 
was  hardly  one  half  composed  of  professional  men. 

Kossuth  has  warm  sensibilities,  an  ardent  imagination, 
and,  more  than  all,  an  object  of  impassioned  interest  to 


254          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOA.TE. 

him  and  to  us.  His  eloquence,  were  it  not  for  the  irresist 
ible  attraction  of  the  theme,  would  be  far  less  moving  and 
popular  than  the  extraordinary  degree  in  which  we  see  it 
now. 

Henry  Clay  had  the  best  education  in  the  world  for  an 
orator — an  active  political  life.  His  mind  at  two  or  three 
periods  in  his  life  has  been  distended  by  the  great  thoughts 
of  the  crisis.  The  war  of  1812  he  understood,  and  Calhoun 
understood.  He  saw  what  it  was  going  to  do  for  us,  by  its 
moral  effect  upon  us  and  upon  other  people — to  make  us  a 
first-class  power  on  earth.  His  industrial  policy  was 
another  stretcher  for  his  mind. 

They  tell  in  Washington  an  anecdote  of  Judge  Story 
and  Clay  which  is  spicy.  The  judge  was  rattling  on  one 
evening,  and  among  other  things  observed,  that  he  wished 
he'd  been  in  Webster's  place  at  that  time  (the  time  when 
Webster  made  his  first  speech  on  the  commercial  policy, 
and  opposed  to  Clay).  Clay  looked  up  at  this  remark, 
and  quietly  but  cuttingly  observed,  "  I  ivish  you  had." 

Brougham  has  hate  and  anger,  the  passions  which  make 
the  vehement  and  bitter  speech. 

In  lecturing,  remember  that  the  lecture  has  its  own 
rule.  It  presumes  that  you  undertake  to  edify.  Accord 
ingly  I  (Choate)  think  it's  an  affront  to  an  audience  for  a 
man  to  stand  before  them  with  no  notes,  and  undertake  to 
rattle  off,  apparently  extempore,  what  it  is  assumed  will 
instruct  them.  Occasionally,  also,  it's  a  relief  to  an  au 
dience  for  the  speaker  to  turn  to  his  notes,  or  to  read  an 
extract  from  a  book.  The  more  passionate  parts,  of  course 
should  be  fully  committed  ;  and  the  whole  discourse  should 
be  fresh  in  the  mind.  Neither  in  a  lecture  nor  in  a  speech 
do  you  want  to  keep  bursting  out  all  the  time  in  high 
passages.  The  thing's  impossible.  Much  of  the  dead 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.      200 

level  always  must  be  merely  instructive,  and  informing, 
and  strong,  and  suggesting,  and  will  not  delight  all. 

One  man  with  a  few  grains  of  ideas  will,  by  the  mas 
tery  of  expression,  do  more  than  another  with  a  bushel. 

Chatham's  English  was  by  many  degrees  finer  than 
his  son's.  His  studies  had  been  wide. 

And  so  ends  this  conversation,  which  was  one  of  the 
most  interesting  and  practical  I  ever  enjoyed  with  Kufus 
Choate. 

P.  S.  to  the  above. — Choate,  in  his  conversation,  said 
that  Burke  was  the  best  orator  to  practice  elocution  upon, 
he  being  "  half  way  between  Bacon  and  Pitt." 

February  14. — When  I  (Choate)  was  in  college,  I  read 
McCormick,  a  book  unfriendly  to  Burke,  and  which  col 
lects  the  various  aspersions  upon  him.  The  margin  is  com 
pletely  covered  with  notes  in  my  hand,  such  as  "  d d 

rascal,"  etc.,  I  was  so  indignant  at  attacks  on  Burke.  The 
story  of  Burke' s  stimulating  with  hot  water  is  there  re 
tailed. 

He  said  he  thought  H.  Gr.  Otis  a  far  higher  order  of  man 
than  the  shallow  rhetorician.  He  was  a  good  lawyer,  but  at 
twenty-eight  diverged  from  it  to  politics.  He  hadn't,  how 
ever,  stocked  his  mind  with  the  maxims,  the  ideas,  the 
knowledges,  which  form  the  very  best  material  of  a  great 
orator. 

April  19,  1852. — Mr.  Choate  said,  in  a  talk  to-day  ; 
Sickness,  and  lassitude,  and  depression,  are  the  common 
obstacles  and  trials  of  the  march  and  temper  of  ambition. 
That  only  which  endures  unto  the  end,  is  the  true  gold. 
I  told  him  of  a  young  college  friend  of  mine  discouraged 
by  sickness  and  retiring  from  business  and  aspiration. 
"  He  wasn't  willing  to  pay  the  price  for  fame,  then."  said 
Choate. 


25o  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

Cicero  he  considers  to  have  had  less  fire  and  unction 
than  Demosthenes.  He  was,  however,  very  vehement — at 
one  time,  by  his  impetuosity  and  violence  of  action,  se 
verely  shattering  his  constitution.  But  his  mind  was  in 
finitely  richer  than  the  Grecian's.  A  philosopher,  a  man 
of  profound  learning,  as  well  as  a  statesman  and  orator. 
Upon  his  brain  there  rested  a  far  greater  mass  of  ideas 
than  on  the  mind  of  the  first  orator  of  the  world.  He 
could  move  men,  too  ;  as,  for  example,  when  Caesar  was 
touched  and  overcome  in  the  speech  for  Marcellus. 

Undoubtedly  Julius  Csesar  had  more  fire  ;  but  Cicero, 
on  the  whole,  must  be  held  the  second  lest  orator  who 
ever  spoke  in  all  this  world. 

Webster,  I  think,  he  continued,  is  either  very  ordinary 
in  discourse,  or  very  great.  I  have  heard  him,  for  a  few 
minutes,  when  there  could  be  no  greater  human  eloquence. 
But  not  being  a  man  of  much  general  learning  or  litera 
ture,  where  there  is  no  great  thought  to  be  elaborated,  or 
lofty  sentiment  to  be  pronounced,  he  halts  and  drags. 
This  is  the  case  even  in  his  very  best  orations.  Out  of 
law  and  statesmanship  he  is  not  rich,  and  we  have  in  him 
no  sparkle  or  gleam  of  allusion  and  reference  to  quicken 
our  fancies  ;  but  he  flies  high,  or  else  he  creeps  slug 
gishly  along. 

Pirikney's  great  original  endowment  was  his  legal  mind. 
He  had  as  fine  a  legal  head  as  was  ever  grown  in  America 
— perhaps  some  would  say  the  fullest  and  of  the  broadest 
dimensions.  His  rhetoric  was  all  put  on.  It  was  got  up 
late  in  life,  and  was  a  magnificent  and  labored  costume, 
solely  created  to  display  his  law.  He  is  always  more  or 
less  stilted  and  far-fetched  ;  but  he  made  his  bursts  tell  ; 
they  were  successful  then,  whatever  we  may  think  in  now 
reading  them  ;  and  success  is  the  true  test  of  oratorio  com- 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS 

position.  There  were,  however,  in  his  works,  two  distinct 
strata;  one,  his  diction — his  varied,  comprehensive,  ad 
mirable  and  discriminating  words  ;  and  his  figures  and 
chaotic  confusion  of  metaphor.  The  former — his  words — 
he  learned  by  a  most  persistent  study  of  literature  and  the 
best  speakers  of  England,  and  I  hold  his  diction  to  be  in 
the  first  rank  for  the  purposes  of  the  orator.  (He  conned 
over  dictionaries,  too,  most  arduously.).  But  the  latter — 
his  figures — his  Minerva  brandishing  the  spear,  his  JunOj 
etc.,  etc.,  I  never  thought  much  of. 

Upon  the  case  of  the  "Nereid,  though,  I  think  the  Su 
preme  Court  were  clearly  wrong,  and  he  as  clearly  right. 

There  are  at  least  twenty  different  kinds  of  English. 
There  is  a  fine  and  delicate  English  for  sentiment,  and  a 
very  nice  and  full  and  discriminating  exact  English  for 
philological  description,  like  De  Quincey's  ;  and  a  copious 
and  rich  and  somewhat  loose  English  for  the  orator.  He 
does  not  often  need  to  mark  by  a  word  accurate  shades  of 
meaning  ;  he  may  and  does  repeat  much  ;  he  throws  various 
lights  upon  the  point ;  and  the  side  he's  on,  too,  often  helps 
to  show  what  he  means.  Fox,  and  Erskine,  and  everybody, 
repeat  much,  restate  and  vary  their  expression  of  proposi 
tions. 

Erskine  knew  men  very  thoroughly,  from  his  service  on 
deck  and  field.  Then  he  had  thrown  himself  upon  the  best 
English  literature,  with  a  hungry  and  even  voracious  ap 
petite  ;  and  from  it,  especially  from  his  careful  and  con 
tinued  study  of  Milton  and  Shakspeare,  he  gained  his 
chaste,  rich  and  admirable  diction.  This  diction  is  his 
chief  acquisition.  And  he  thus  grasped  the  flower  of  liter 
ature,  without  becoming  imbued  with  the  faults  and  foibles 
of  the  literary  man  ;  which  are  a  dreamy,  sentimental, 
brooding,  imagining  tendency.  These  ivords  he  divided 


258   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

and  delivered  in  sentences  fashioned  by  a  very  musical  and 
rhythmic  ear.  He  had,  too,  a  natural  knack  for  catching 
at  elegant  and  felicitous  modes  of  expression. 

As  lie  learned  not  much  besides  words,  and  how  to 
answer  the  more  pressing  necessities  of  his  profession,  and 
as  he  came  early  into  active  business,  he  spent  his  life  in 
thus  meeting  the  demands  of  the  day  ;  and  when  his  ener 
gies  for  that  somewhat  abated,  he  had  no  thought  and 
knowledge  so  fall  back  upon. 

Brougham,  I  (Choate)  think,  is  more  naturally  inclined 
to  science  than  politics  or  law.  But  he  has  vast  energy 
and  untiring  activity  of  mind,  and  has  bent  all  his  powers 
to  oratory.  Although  not  a  true  orator,  possessing  little 
power  of  touching  the  feelings,  yet,  by  the  sheer  force  and 
fertility  of  his  mind,  he  is  the  first  speaker  in  England. 

Of  another  orator  he  said,  He  is  a  mere  highly-colored 
popinjay  He  has  a  tawdry  rhetoric,  and  can  not  move 
men  with  it ;  that  is  men  of  much  thought.  He  has  had 
no  active  commerce  with  men,  he  has  not  battled  and  fellow- 
shiped  with  them  in  a  long  active  court  and  jury  life.  If 
his  mind  hadn't  been  shallow,  he  wouldn't  have  had  his 
head  turned  by  the  early  adulation  of  English  society. 

Active  legal  business  affords  little  or  no  training  or 
supply  for  speaking.  It  gives  one  a  certain  facility  of  ac 
tion,  but  puts  no  thought  or  diction  or  stuff  into  you. 

Mr.  Choate  also  remarked  that  Lord  Jeffrey,  the  great 
lawyer  and  reviewer,  got  his  English  from  translating  and 
from  reading.  He  was  however  rather  the  literary  than 
the  public  man.  Like  Macaulay,  he  had  the  true  literary, 
solitary,  and  abstracted  musing  tastes.  Moreover,  I  re 
member  Choate  remarked  to  me,  If  you  want  really  to 
master  what  you  think  you  know,  tell  it  to  somebody.  I 
once  knew  a  man  who  learned  very  many  complete  pages 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    259 

of  Addison,  and  retailed  it  out  in  conversation.  He  was 
thus  practicing  very  much  the  same  thing  as  extempore 
delivery  in  original  words  of  other  people's  thoughts  ;-a 
practice  I  much  approve  of.  One  thereby  exercises  in  the 
mere  invention  of  expression,  without  being  compelled  to 
labor  for  the  invention  of  thought ;  for  a  daily  drill  prac 
tice  of  which,  an  active  life  hardly  affords  time. 

Mr.  Choate  also  observed  that  he  thought  De  Quincey 
something  of  a  babbler  and  gossiper,  a  busy-body,  an  in- 
termeddler  with  other  people's  affairs.  He  was,  apparently, 
not  loved  by  any  of  his  associates  except  Wilson,  Kit  North. 
And  I  doubt  sometimes,  said  he,  if  he  was  a  true  man, 
though  I  think  him  one  intellectually,  of  latent  accom 
plishment,  giving  off  some  of  the  most  critical  and  finest 
English  extant. 

September  26,  1852. — Mr.  Choate  gave  me  an  afternoon 
to-day  with  him  in  his  noble  library. 

Among  many  things,  we  discussed  the  rejection  of  Web 
ster  by  the  Baltimore  Convention.  I  maintained  that  a 
great  statesman  who  had  for  years  given  himself  to  his 
party  and  his  country,  had  a  claim  on  that  party  for  the 
presidency.  This  he  denied.  The  moment  you  suggest  a 
claim  on  the  party  for  his  services,  you  suggest  a  reflection 
on  the  statesman's  patriotism.  Webster,  moreover,  has 
had  some  rewards  as  he  went  along — Washington,  with  all 
its  attractions,  and  the  society  of  the  first  men  of  the  land. 

He  remarked  that  he  thought  Scott's  chances  of  an  elec 
tion  were  very  good.  Webster,  he  says,  was  so  confident 
of  receiving  the  nomination  of  the  Baltimore  Convention, 
that  he  said  to  Blatchford,  one  of  his  friends,  "  If  I  am 
nominated,  of  which  now  there  seems  little  doubt,  I  shall 
make  a  tour  of  the  West."  I  (Choate)  think  Webster 
would  have  been  elected,  if  nominated.  I  think  America, 


260   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

is  proud  to  weakness  of  her  men  of  great  mental  stature — 
and  there  would  have  been  a  mighty  reaction  and  upheav- 
irrg  of  the  popular  waters.  All  the  young  men  of  educa 
tion,  all  the  ministers  would  have  rallied  for  him.  His 
Alleghanian  super-excellence,  especially  in  a  contest  like 
this,  where  no  great  issues  are  involved,  but  it  is  mainly  a 
contest  of  men,  must  have  given  him  the  prize.  Yet  even 
while  he  was  so  confident  during  the  sessions  of  the  nomi 
nating  body,  there  wasn't  the  shadow  of  a  chance  for  his 
nomination. 

I  suggested  to  Mr.  Choate  that  the  country  had  prided 
itself  on  Clay's  services,  and  yet  had  never  crowned  him  j 
which  he  acknowledged  was  an  argument  against  his 
theory. 

Everett  did  not  rule  in  Congress  not  because  his  speaking 
was  not  fine,  but  because  all  his  peculiar  knowledges  and 
excellences  were  out  of  place.  He  had,  for  instance,  studied 
the  Greek  drama  most  critically  for  five  years  ;  but  how 
did  that  help  him  ?  He  wasn't  great  on  ready,  off-hand 
speaking.  If  he  had  been  brought  up  differently,  taught 
school  in  vacations,  and  worked  his  way  along  through  a 
lawyer's  office,  he  might  have  been  a  different  man.  Still 
I  don't  think  he  can  be  called  an  unsuccessful  man. 

I  (Choate)  at  one  time  ran  too  much  to  words  and 
phrases  ;  for  which  alone,  by  the  way,  literature  is  directly 

valuable,  except  as  a  recreation.      I  consider  Mr. a 

mere  railer.  He  fixes  his  mind  wholly  on  one  side,  ut 
terly  disregards  all  other  aspects,  other  qualifications  or 
extenuations  ;  spends  all  his  intellect  in  the  poor  exercise 
of  making  phrases,  variously  and  pungently  to  express  this 
extreme  one-sicledness.  Hence  all  his  power. 

D'Israeli  speaks  well  in  Parliament  undoubtedly. 
But  he  is  a  literary  man  speaking  well  ;  not  a  talker  like 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   261 

unto  the  style  in  which  the  great  orators  of  England  have 
spoken. 

It's  a  great  mistake  to  think  anything  too  profound  or 
rich  for  a  popular  audience.  No  train  of  thought  is  too 
deep  or  subtle,  or  grand — but  the  manner  of  presenting  it 
to  their  untutored  minds  should  be  peculiar.  It  should  be 
presented  in  anecdote  or  sparkling  truism,  or  telling  illus 
tration,  or  stinging  epithet,  etc.  ;  always  in  some  concrete 
form,  never  in  a  logical,  abstract,  syllogistic  shape. 

There  was  one  year  of  my  early  life  in  which  I  (Choate) 
dried  my  mind  all  up  by  an  exclusive  study  of  the  law. 

Mr. ought  to  do  a  vast  deal  more  than  he  does.     He 

has  no  occupying  profession,  while  all  we  lawyers  get 
is  a  brief  and  furtive  access  to  our  miscellaneous  libraries 
morning  and  evenings.  I  at  present  am  reading  a  page  ol 
Bacon  daily.  His  tide  of  thought  is  a  soaring,  swelling 
stream.  All  knowledge  is  indeed  contributory  to  the  ora 
tor,  but  some  much  more  so  than  other  kinds. 

Clay  was,  I  think,  very  different  in  his  oratory  from 
Patrick  Henry.  The  latter  was  purely  emotional.  He 
never  to  my  knowledge  gave  any  wise  advice  in  his  life. 
Clay's  power  really  rested  on  his  wisdom,  his  genuine  far- 
sighted  wisdom.  And  Ms  oratory  was  much  trained. 
Very  considerable  emotional  impulse,  however,  was  com 
bined  with  his  intellect. 

Burke  in  a  speech  would  have  employed  very  much  the 
same  essential  groundwork  as  Clay,  but  it  would  have  been 
sustained  by  a  class  of  considerations  drawn  from  a  wider 
sweep  of  philosophy  ;  it  would  have  been  illustrated  by  finer 
images,  and  embodied  in  far  richer  diction. 

Webster's  phrases  are  much  more  telling  than  Everett's. 
They  run  through  the  land  like  coin. 

I  think  there  were  at  least  a  thousand  men  in  the  army 


262     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

of  Mexico,  who  in  going  there  were  laying  out  for  the 
presidency.  Caleb  Gushing  won't  stay  on  the  Bench  six 
months.  It's  obvious  that  his  thoughts  are  off  in  Cuba 
and  elsewhere. 

Two  weeks  after  the  foregoing  converse  with  Mr.  Choate 
I  spent  another  Sunday  afternoon  with  him.  He  showed 
me  a  great  folio  dictionary,  newly  brought  out  by  some 
one,  of  varied  phrases  for  the  same  idea. 

I  think  that  Scott  will  be  elected,  said  he.  I  told  him 
I  disagreed  with  him,  and  argued  to  show  it,  from  the  fact 
that  we  had  never  carried  the  three  great  States,  the  gain 
ing  of  two  of  which  is  indispensable  to  success,  when  the 
Democrats  are  united.  Now  no  Barnburning  heresy,  I 
said  in  reply,  sunders  their  wigwam.  He  changed  the  topic, 
and  went  on  to  say,  The  acceptance  of  our  American  Con 
stitution  was  almost  a  miracle.  Sam  Adams  and  Patrick 
Henry,  honest  but  most  dangerous  men,  both  violently  op 
posed  it.  They  couldn't  see  the  use  of  it,  the  necessity  for 
it.  Finally  it  was  adopted  in  the  Massachusetts  Conven 
tion  by  a  sort  of  trick.  Several  clauses  were  added  as 
amendments,  which  the  adversaries  of  the  Constitution 
thought  were  conditions  precedent  to  its  adoption,  when 
really  they  were  conditions  subsequent,  and  were  never 
broached  afterwards.  All  the  sea-board  counties  of  the 
State  voted  for  it,  and  the  Connecticut  valley.  To-day, 
if  the  appeal  were  to  be  made  by  the  wisdom  and  intelli 
gence  of  Massachusetts  to  the  mass  of  the  people,  I  don't 
think  the  Constitution  would  be  adopted.  It  was  a  great 
triumph  of  pure  reason. 

Moses  carried  the  Israelites  by  a  direct  appeal  to  their 
senses.  I  don't  doubt  that  half  of  them  were  frightened 
all  but  to  death  by  the  miracles  and,  portents  which  sanc 
tioned  his  divine  commission.  And  these  means  were  con- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     263 

tinued  during  all  the  journey.  But  in  this  case  of  our 
Constitution  there  was  no  appeal  to  the  senses ;  and  the 
interests  of  all  the  demagogues — of  whom  Hancock  was 
one — were  of  course  against  it. 

Any  thing  may  be  said  to  a  jury,  if  you  see  the  Court 
seem  approving,  and  the  jurymen  listen.  An  aphorism,  a 
citation,  an  "  it  was  said  by  that  great  man,"  or  a  histori 
cal  allusion  is  always  appropriate  to  a  jury  argument. 
The  latter,  however,  must  not  be  elaborate  but  rapid  and 
sketchy.  Erskine  got  along,  not  by  wide  scope  and  reach 
of  rich  allusion  and  thought,  but  by  a  beautiful  voice,  emo 
tional  temperament,  and  the  richest  English  taken  from 
Shakspeare  and  Milton. 

Pinkney  I  think  the  only  very  interesting  mind  that 
has  in  this  country  turned  itself  devotedly  to  law. 

Judge  Story  was  not  naturally  a  preeminent  votary  of 
the  Muses. 

Webster  has  never,  since  he  was  thirty,  given  himself  to 
a  scientific  study  of  the  law.  He  has  been  occupied  in 
politics  and  general  reading  a  good  deal.  His  mind  is  far 
richer  than  Story's — more  ideas  ;  though  Story  is  great. 

Society,  unless  you  talk  with  superior  men,  is  not  worth 
much.  You  must  talk  small,  and  you  get  no  important 
knowledge  or  thinkings. 

A  legal  mind  fully  content  and  satisfied  with  law  can 
not  be  a  mind  of  a  very  high  order  ;  for  the  law  rests  on 
arbitrary  collections  of  decrees.  If  I  could  not  get  any 
time  from  my  law,  for  liberal  and  grateful  studies,  I'd  give 
up  law  from  my  present  case.  What  wears  upon  me  in 
practice  is  not  study,  but  fatigue  and  responsibility  of  courts. 
My  nervous  attacks  cease  when  I  intermit  courts. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  after  several  years  of  study  a  man 
should  be  sick  a  year.  Moderation  with  labor  is  taught  by  it. 


264          REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE. 

Goethe's  motto  is  good  :  haste  not.,  rest  not.  Bead 
Pliny,  Johnson,,  and  those  didactics  which  teach  content. 
Our  country  is  too  headlong. 

In  studying  the  Keports,  study  back  from  the  last  case 
reported.  Study  back  the  sources  of  every  dictum.  Make 
a  complete  argument  for  yourself  in  the  case. 

Byron's  thoughts  are  usable.  Shakspeare  is  full  of 
usable  maxims  for  speaking.  A  real  love  of  Shakspeare 
is  rare.  Head  him  critically  with  Schlegel.  Study  diction 
ary  of  different  phrases  for  the  same  idea. 

You  get  copiousness  not  merely  by  words,  but  by  full 
ness  of  thoughts,  knowledges.  I  recommend  to  you  Ger 
man — you  being  at  an  age  when  you  may  have  thirty  years 
of  reading  before  you.  It  is  a  cognate  tongue  ;  and  in  it 
move  the  whole  new  springs  of  modern  thought,  archaeology, 
ethnology,  and  all. 

Desultory  reading  is  a  waste  of  life.     Kead  by  system. 

Always  consider  that  the  law  is  to  be  your  business. 
Never  depend  on  politics. 

Politics. — It's  a  curious  whimsicality  of  the  people,  that 
if  a  man  by  fortune  and  character  is  finely  fitted  for  pub 
lic  life  they  won't  take  him.  A  man  is  dependent  in  poli 
tics  on  a  perfect  rabble,  half  ethically  trained.  As  soon  as 
a  man  makes  politics  a  trade  he's  dropped.  But  if  they 
can  catch  a  man  at  a  time  when  it's  devilishly  inconvenient 
for  him  to  go,  they're  sure  to  send  him  to  Congress.  This 
peculiarity  must  rest  of  course,  like  all  general  feelings,  on 
some  principle.  I  query  whether  it  isn't  the  idea  of  selfish 
ness.  The  people  think  and  feel  they^ll  be  better  served 
by  one  who  has  no  wish  to  go. 

Mr.  -  — ,  when  in  the  Senate,  forgot  the  Senate,  and 
thought  only  of  the  Atlas  office.  He  is  shelved  I  think. 

As  soon  as  a  man  has  been  three  years  in  Congress  the 


REMINISCENCES  OF   RUFUS  CHOATE.    265 

people  grow  impatient  of  him.  There  seems  to  be  some 
thing  in  the  taste  of  northern  society  which  forbids  per 
manency  in  public  life.  The  English  are  different.  There 
the  borough  system  in  some  measure  is  a  corrective. 

In  the  South  a  few  rule,  not  the  multitude.  Hence 
Clay's  long-continued  success.  The  South  has  no  literature. 

A  man  should  keep  back  from  politics  several  years,  if 
he  would  really  recommend  himself.     Suppose  Mr.  - 
gets  to  Congress.     It  throws  him  out  of  all  business,  and 
he  is  not  likely  to  be  reflected.     Then,  where  is  he  ? 

Kantoul  had  better  have  devoted  himself  to  his  profes 
sion.  Death  would  then  have  found  him  much  higher  up. 
And,  as  for  his  happiness,  he  had  to  be  sure  more  congenial 
studies,  but  then  he  had  eternal  disappointments  in  his  po 
litical  ambition. 

A  man  is  disgusted  with  law  when  he  is  dosed,  sur 
feited.  Five  hours  a  day,  including  practice,  is  enough  for 
law.  Save  that  one  ought  daily  to  get  at  least  one  hour 
for  quiet  book-study  of  law.  For  five  years  I  studied  law 
exclusively,  and  dried  my  mind,  but,  being  constantly  in 
practice,  I  learned  tolove  it.  Now,  the  whole  of  my  pleas 
urable  mental  occupations  are  in  very  different  fields  ;  there 
fore  I  fear  law  may  grow  distasteful  to  me  ;  and  so  I'm 
studying  it  daily  scientifically.  I'm  going  to  read  Coke  on 
Littleton  to  quicken  my  legal  taste  ;  for  it  would  be  dread 
ful,  you  know,  if  the  occupation  a  man  was  to  pursue  for 
the  last  ten  years  of  his  life  should  bs  repulsive. 

Horace  Binney  waited  ten  years  for  a  fee.  Kent  and 
Mansfield  evinced  the  most  liberal  culture. 

Practical  business  in  law  is  the  proper  preparation  for 
the  Senate.  A  great  part  of  the  Senators  are  ex-judges. 
The  country  demands  that  men  have  a  business  of  some 
kind. 

12 


266   REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE. 

The  above  conversation  with  Choate  was  in  1852.  Scott 
was  not  elected. 

October  30th,  1852.— Talking  with  Mr.  Choate,  to-day, 
he  said,  A  man  in  speaking  ought  rather  to  check  the  on 
ward  tide  of  a  rapid  mind,  lest  he  fall  into  a  mere  unim 
pressive  volubility. 

He  said  he  had  declined  the  Boston  eulogy  on  Mr. 
Webster  because  he  had  previously  accepted  an  invitation 
similar  from  Dartmouth  College.  To  do  that  he  coulc1 
take  his  own  time,  and  could  indulge  in  a  far  more  critical, 
scholastic,  and  to  him  grateful  analysis  of  the  theme,  than 
would  be  fit  for  Faneuil  Hall ;  and  besides,  it  would  tax 
me  terribly,  said  he,  to  speak  two  hours  in  Faneuil  Hall. 

All  the  successive  periods  of  Webster's  life,  the  edu 
cational,  when  his  mind  formed,  the  professional,  etc.,  he 
should  examine.  One  hour  he  thought  he  should  give  to 
the  examination  of  the  "  conscience"  abusers  of  Webster, 
all  of  whom  admit  that  if  he  honestly  thought  his  coun 
try  in  jeopardy,  his  course  on  the  7th  of  March  was  justifi 
able. 

Battling  on  in  this  rapid  way,  he  commenced,  Poor 
Everett  ! — no  he  is  not  poor,  he  is  great  Everett — I'm 
glad  he's  gone  into  the  State  Department  for  his  own  sake, 
and  Webster's  sake. 

December  20th,  1852. — A  very  long  and  delightful  con 
versation  with  Mr.  Choate  in  his  library  yesterday. 

He  spoke  of  the  admirable  character  of  Goodrich' s 
Book  of  English  Orators,  but  thought  he  didn't  quite  do 
justice  to  Gr rattan,  in  his  description  of  the  ridiculousness 
of  his  "  first  fifteen  minutes." 

Grattan  had  one  of  the  grandest  opportunities  ever  given 
to  an  orator,  in  his  speech  opening  thus  :  "  At  length  I  ad 
dress  a  new  country."  Mr.  Choate  more  than  once  spoke 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  267 

to  me  of  this  speech.  Such  grand  occasions,  he  said,  are 
vouchsafed  to  few  orators.  Webster  had  not,  in  all  his 
career,  any  such  an  one. 

Mirabeau,  too,  spoke  in  a  new  epoch  ;  and  Eousseau, 
in  his  writings,  caught  his  burning  eloquence  from  this, 
that  he  was.  for  the  first  time  uttering  the  long-crushed 
thoughts  and  wants  of  the  poor  million! 

A  speaker  makes  his  impression,  if  he  ever  makes  it,  in 
the  first  hour,  sometimes  in  the  first  fifteen  minutes ;  for 
if  he  has  a  proper  and  firm  grasp  of  his  case,  he  then  puts 
forth  the  outline  of  his  grounds  of  argument.  He  plays 
the  overture,  which  hints  at  or  announces  all  the  airs  of 
the  coming  opera.  All  the  rest  is  mere  filling  up  ;  answer 
ing  objections,  giving  one  juryman  little  arguments  with 
which  to  answer  the  objections  of  his  fellows,  etc.  Indeed 
this  may  be  taken  as  a  fixed  rule,  that  the  popular  mind 
can  never  be  vigorously  addressed,  deeply  moved,  and 
stirred,  and  fixed,  more  than  one  hour  in  any  single  ad 
dress. 

The  jury  address  of  four  hours  is  no  exception  to  this ; 
for  they  don't,  in  its  whole  course,  give  more  than  one 
hour's  fixed  attention.  Some  parts  of  that  hour's  attention 
may  be  scattered  over  various  portions  of  the  argument,  but 
generally  most  of  it  is  given  at  first.  Then  curiosity  for 
what  you're  going  to  rely  on  in  argument  is  all  aroused, 
and  they  are  eager  and  attentive.  After  that  they  wander ; 
and  always,  in  my  long  address  to  juries,  some  one  goes  to 
sleep. 

In  truth,  neither  in  public  speeches  nor  private  is  it 
possible  for  the  common  mind,  or  perhaps  any  mind,  to  be 
fixed  and  stirred  more  than  an  hour. 

It  is  to  be  said  also  of  the  apparent  exception  of  juries 
to  this  rule,  that  with  them  there  is  a  business  to  be  done, 


268      REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE. 

not  mere  pleasure  •  and  a  great  variety  in  topics,  and  in 
commenting  on  various  witnesses,  turning  to  the  judge,  etc. 

When  some  one  yawned  in  my  face  while  I  was  speak 
ing  I  have  often  wished  /  was  dead  almost.  And  a  thou 
sand  times  I  have  felt,  he  said,  the  drag,  and  flag,  and 
doubt  of  success  in  the  middle  of  my  speeches.  It  results 
from  the  first  pressure  of  fatigue  upon  the  speaker,  and 
some  other  nervous  causes  also. 

The  power  of  sympathy  is  very  strong  in  every  orator. 
Erskine  was  sometimes  said  to  have  been  put  down  by  his 
adversary  procuring  some  one  to  yawn  in  his  face.  And 
Pinkney  I  myself  saw,  in  his  last  great  argument  against 
Webster,  in  the  full  tide  of  eloquence,  completely  disturbed 
by  a  noise  at  the  door.  He  stopped  and  said  he  couldn't 
go  on  till  that  confusion  was  stopped.  I  remember  it,  and 
shall,  for  a  thousand  years  ;  as  also  the  smile  which  passed 
over  Webster's  grim,  unnervous  face. 

I  have  learned  not  to  mind  the  many  trials  of  my  sym 
pathy  ever  occurring  in  speaking,  for  it  won't  do  to  take 
notice  of  them.  This  power  of  sympathy  it  is  which  en 
ables  a  person  to  speak  far  better  to  an  audience,  and  very 
differently,  too,  from  what  he  would  do  alone,  in  private. 

In  addressing  an  audience,  don't  fall  into  the  error 
which  has  much  impaired  moving  power,  of  looking  about 
from  side  to  side,  in  the  very  middle  of  your  sentences,  so 
that,  in  fact,  you  address  nobody  in  particular. 

It's  well  enough  and  desirable  to  address  different  quar 
ters  or  sections  of  the  audience.  But  if  you  were  con 
versing  with  a  circle  of  friends,  you  wouldn't  look  around 
naturally,  save  at  conclusions  of  sentences,  or  at  least 
clauses  of  sentences. 

Elocutionary  training  I  most  highly  approve  of.  I 
would  go  to  an  elocutionist  myself,  if  I  could  get  time. 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.  269 

Everett  is  probably  an  example  of  all  that  can  be  done 
by  mere  elocutionary  culture  to  delight  and  affect.  If, 
however,  he  had  devoted  a  part  of  his  efforts  to  developing 
the  emotional  part  of  Ms  nature,  his  complete  power  would 
doubtless  have  been  greater. 

/  have  always,  even  before  I  first  iverit  to  Congress, 
practiced  a  daily  sort  of  elocutionary  culture,  combined 
with  a  culture  of  the  emotional  nature.  I  have  read  aloud, 
or  rather  spoken,  every  day,  a  page  from  Burke,  or  some 
rich  author,  laboring  for  two  things  :  to  feel  all  the  emo 
tions  of  indignation,  sarcasm,  commiseration,  etc.,  which 
were  felt  by  him.  And  also,  to  make  my  voice  flexibly 
express  all  the  changes  of  pitch  and  time,  etc.,  appropriate 
to  the  fluctuation  of  the  thought.  I  have  done  this  in  my 
room,  and  did  not  therefore  give  vent  to  loudness  or  vio 
lence,  but  found  great  range  of  tone  possible,  nevertheless. 

I  strove  constantly  also  to  make  my  tones  strong  and 
full,  and  the  throat  ivell  opened. 

I  found  that  giving  voice  to  the  emotions  suggested  by 
the  successive  thoughts,  augmented  them  infinitely  more 
than  merely  silently  reading  the  page  could  do. 

All  the  discipline  and  customs  of  social  life  and  busi 
ness  life,  in  our  time,  tend  to  crush  emotion  and  feeling. 
Literature  alone  is  brimful  of  feeling.  All  good  or  bad 
poetry,  and  every  thing  but  mathematics, — even  meta 
physics, — stimulates  this  emotional  seat  of  life. 

The- intense  effect  I  (Choate)  have  spoken  of,  which 
the  speaking  the  words  of  a  page  in  appropriate  tones 
produces  on  me,  I  am  somewhat  puzzled  to  account  for. 
It  can  be  referred,  I  think,  to  an  effect  of  sympathy,  inas^ 
much  as  the  tones  heard  by  your  own  ear,  though  they 
come  from  your  own  mouth,  seem  as  if  produced  by  a  third 
person. 


270         REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

Mr.  Webster,  I  know,  must  have  paid,  at  some  time  of 
his  life,  much  attention  to  delivery.  At  Phillips'  Acad 
emy,  to  be  sure,  he  wasn't  much  of  a  speaker,  but  at  his 
college  he  was  the  best  speaker  of  his  class.  He  was 
always  selected  for  the  Fourth  of  July  orations,  etc. 

He  himself  told  me  (Choate)  the  story  about  his  grad 
uation.  He  had  labored  all  through  college  to  get  one 
particular  part  at  commencement,  as  he  told  me  he  had 
set  his  heart  on  it.  That  part  was  one  always  given  to 
the  best  speaker  and  orator.  But,  although  he  was  by 
unanimous  consent  thought  certain  of  it,  the  part  itself 
was  in  the  last  term  of  his  course  abolished,  as  he  thought 
by  the  contrivance  of  one  of  the  college  officers  who  was 
ill  disposed  toward  him.  He  told  me  himself  that  no  dis 
appointment  of  his  whole  life  ever  aifected  him  more 
keenly.  (This  he  said  to  me  before  he  lost  the  Presidency.) 

This  circumstance  shows  how  well  he  must  have  culti 
vated  oratory ;  and  I  know,  and  I  tell  you,  that  rhetoric — 
at  least  so  much  of  it  as  appertains  to  the  artificial  arrange 
ment  and  distribution  of  proofs — had  received  much  study 
from  him.  I  recollect  his  speaking  to  me  once  about  the 
propriety  of  placing  the  weaker  arguments  in  the  middle 
of  the  speech. 

When  you  (that  is,  the  author)  have  heard  Webster, 
you  have  heard  an  old  man,  and  not  him  as  he  was.  His 
second  Bunker  Hill  speech,  I  agree  with  you,  was  a  com 
plete  failure  and  break-down,  as  regards  delivery.  I  sat 
behind  him,  and  was  never  so  distressed  in  my  life. 

It's  very  difficult  to  discuss  different  kinds  of  orators 
intelligently,  for  the  divisions  are  so  ill  defined,  that  we 
talk  according  to  our  ideal  of  different  kinds,  and  mean 
diverse  things  by  the  same  words.  Consequently,  it  is 
often  a  dispute  about  mere  words.  One  orator  is  very 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   271 

emotional,  another  intellectually  brilliant,  and  others  com 
bining  these  elements  in  undefinable  proportions. 

Macaulay  and  Jeffrey  are  samples  of  the  comparatively 
passionless  orators.  They  are  men  of  no  strong,  ardent 
beliefs — not  any  very  tenacious  holdings  of  faith  in  any 
thing,  I  reckon.  (Not  atheists,  however.)  They  prevail 
by  diction  and  manner.  Macaulay  I  deem  the  finest  talker 
I  ever  saw  or  knew  of  in  any  country. 

Fox  was  incomparably  superior  to  Pitt  as  an  orator.  I 
never  could  fully  get  at  the  secret  of  Pitt's  power  as  an 
orator.  He  wasn't  impassioned,  though  he  had  a  fine  voice, 
and  his  diction  was  fluent  and  fine. 

Pickering  once  told  me  he  heard  Pitt  rise  at  3  A.  M., 
after  Windham  and  Sheridan  and  others  had  all  spoken  ; 
and  really,  in  comparison,  his  grand  volume  of  sound 
seemed  the  roar  of  a  lion  compared  with  the  chattering  of 
magpies. 

No  doubt  Pinkney  admired  Pitt,  for  he  had  the  same 
kind  of  intellectual  oratory.  Pitt's  great  source  of  power 
in  oratory,  after  all,  I'm  disposed  to  think,  was  character. 
His  position  was  so  daring  at  the  head  of  the  British  gov 
ernment,  first  against  the  coalition,  and  then  against  the 
continent ;  and  he  always  showed  such  unbending  nobility 
and  dignity  of  mind.  Still,  as  Burke  said,  he  was  "  the 
sublime  of  mediocrity." 

Chatham  was  not  often  pathetic,  but  terible  and  grand 
and  sweeping. 

Wirt,  at  thirty-five  years  of  age,  was,  I  think,  the  most 
interesting  man  of  the  profession  in  our  country.  Webster 
and  Pinkney  had  not  then  come  out  in  national  relief. 
With  them  letters  were  an  after  acquisition,  with  Wirt 
the  literature  was  originally  congenial.  I  didn't  hear  him 
in  his  prime,  for  the  winter  I  was  in  his  office  he  was 


272          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

struck  down  in  the  middle  of  preparing  a  great  case  by  a 
sort  of  paralysis,  brought  on  entirely  by  over  work. 

He  told  me  (Choate)  once  that  he  sat  right  behind 
Webster  in  the  Dartmouth  College  case,  and  he  didn't 
hear  anything  of  that  pathetic  peroration  which  Goodrich 
describes  ;  at  least  he  wasn't  impressed  with  anything  in 
particular  about  it. 

I  think  Wirt's  argument  in  Burr's  case,  and  on  the 
motion  to  exclude  all  the  testimony  as  to  what  occurred  in 
other  parts  than  the  venue,  his  greatest  effort  on  record. 

Irving,  the  English  divine,  had  the  deep  convictions  of 
religion  as  the  fountain  of  his  eloquence. 

Chatham's  convictions  and  emotions  were  bottomed 
on  the  broad  basis  of  profound  convictions  of  right  and 
wrong. 

Pitt  had,  as  any  English  nobleman's  son  designed  for 
oratory  has,  an  admirable  training  from  his  cradle.  He 
never  heard  any  but  the  best  words  and  the  noblest  senti 
ments,  and  the  most  cultivated  and  often  eloquent  tones 
from  his  youth  up. 

Everett,  I  don't  think  a  selfish  man.  He  has  always 
been  devoted  to  his  family.  His  wife  has  been  sick,  and 
his  children  been  sick  ;  and  for  many  years  so  assiduous 
has  been  his  devotion  to  them  that  his  disturbed  nights 
and  sleeplessness  has  broken  down  his  health.  He  has 
been  in  that  household  man  and  woman  too. 

I  (Choate)  talked  with  Daniel  Webster  about  the  mat 
ter  when  I  was  applied  to  on  behalf  of  Professor  Webster. 
He  entirely  coincided  with  me  as  to  the  proper  line  of  de 
fense — that  it  must  be  an  admission  of  the  homicide. 

Mr.  Choate  intimated  that  at  once,  in  the  very  earliest 
stage  of  the  matter — the  defendant  had  just  been  examined 
in  the  Police  Court — the  defendant's  counsel  should  settle 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          273 

on  their  certain  line  of  defense,  and  put  forth  some  theory 
which  should  allay  the  tremendous  popular  feeling  rising 
fast  against  him — a  feeling  whose  outside  pressure  would 
be  irresistible  in  the  Court  on  the  jury  at  the  trial.  And 
then  he  added,  if  they  mean  to  save  him,  there's  not  a 
minute  to  be  lost. 

(Mr.  Webster  said  to  me  (the  author)  some  time  after 
he  had  this  conversation  with  Mr.  Choate,  that  he  had  not 
the  least  doubt  of  Professor  Webster's  guilt.) 

Mr.  Choate  observed,  when  a  speaker  gets  old,  say  fifty, 
it  may  be  necessary  to  stimulate  a  little  to  revive  his  sensi 
bilities.  But  youth  should  never  rely  on  it.  However 
tea  or  hot  water  are  natural  excitants,  and  will  not  injure 
or  exhaust  even  youth.  Hot  water  was  Burke's  stimulant. 
He  had  beside  him  during  the  writing  of  his  master  com 
positions  a  pitcher  of  it,  which  from  time  to  time  he 
quaffed.  But  if  for  any  very  trying  occasion  a  man  finds 
it  necessary  to  stimulate,  two  glasses  of  broiun  sherry  is,  I 
know  by  experience,  far  better  than  any  other  wine. 

I  don't  think,  as  some  say,  that  our  climate  is  unfavor 
able  to  orators. 

1853. 

January  15, 1853. — Great  patent  case,  which  had  been 
fought  for  three  weeks,  ends  in  verdict  for  Choate. 

Mr.  Choate  told  me  his  adversary  managed  the  case 
very  well,  for  one  who  didn't  understand  all  the  depths  and 
shoals  of  patent  law.  But  my  own  course  has  always  been, 
said  he,  when  I  am.  for  the  defendant  in  a  patent  case,  to 
insist  on  the  non-infringement,  and  not  to  rely  too  much 
on  the  non-novelty  of  the  plaintiff's  invention. 

This  latter  course  the  adversary  in  this  case  took,  i.  e., 
impugning  plaintiff's  patent. 

12* 


274         REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

He  was  wrong  in  this,  said  Mr.  Choatc  ;  for  in  this 
case  the  plaintiff's  patent  don't  teach  you  how  to  make  the 
defendant's  machine.  That's  the  test. 

My  adversary's  argument  was  very  heautiful  and  effect 
ive  in  rousing  some  emotions  in  the  breasts  of  the  jury  ; 
but  these  emotions  were  none  of  them  so  immediately  con 
nected  with  the  defendant  as  to  be  of  much  practical  ser 
vice  to  him. 

April  13. — Mr.  Choate  began  talking  about  Sir  Henry 
Bulwer's  remark  which,  he  made  while  ambassador  to 
America,  that  no  northern  orator  could  speak  grandly 
without  stimulants,  owing  to  the  tamer  current  of  their 
blood.  Choate  said  he  didn't  believe  it.  The  Northerners 
were  not  wanting  in  endowments  of  temperament,  but  they 
only  wanted  development.  He  considered  our  social  cus 
toms  and  training  at  the  North  crushing  to  all  ardor  of 
oratory.  The  wrorld,  said  he;  is  beginning  to  demand  a 
higher  training  for  orators. 

Pinkney,  I  (Choate)  heard  make  the  most  delightful 
speech  I  ever  listened  to  ;  but  it  was  an  intellectual  de 
light,  for  Pinkney  decidedly  lacked  sensibility.  His  elo 
quence  was  artificial. 

Mr.  Choate  said,  in  another  conversation,  that  now  the 
Whigs  were  so  defeated,  a  great  American  Union  party 
must  be  formed,  including-  Missouri  and  the  far  West, 
whose  purpose  should  be  to  build  up  America — at  home, 
her  home  interests,  etc.,  in  distinction  from  foreign  aggres 
sive  conquest. 

1854. 

March  5. — In  trying  a  cause  to-day  in  Court,  Mr. 
Choate  suddenly  turned  round  to  me,  and  without  the 
least  preamble,  and  still  paying  attention  to  the  cause, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE.     275 

said,  I've  just  been  reading  Vinet's  book  on  Pulpit  Elo 
quence.  It's  the  best  thing  I've  seen.  Go  and  get  a  copy, 
and  tell  them  to  charge  it  to  me,  and  I'll  put  yours  and 
my  name  in  it ;  then  read  it  through,  for  it's  capital. 
Having  jerked  out  these  words  in  a  violent  whisper,  he 
whirled  round,  and  was  far  back  in  the  middle  of  his  case 
again  in  a  moment,  nor  did  he  have  any  more  leisure  to 
talk  on  that  day. 

March  26. — Talking  over  a  case  with  Mr.  Choate 
to-day,  I  remarked  to  him  (what  probably  most  young- 
lawyers  have  found)  that  the  more  I  got  into  practice, 
the  more  I  liked  law.  Like  it,  said  he,  of  course  you  like 
it  !  There's  nothing  else  for  any  man  of  intellect  to  like. 
Politics  is  shifting,  unsteady  and  capricious  ;  and  they 
don't  satisfy  the  intellect. 

May  6. — Had  conversation  with  Mr.  Choate  to-day,  on 
law,  etc.  He  said  Noon  Talfourd's  Essay  on  the  Bar,  etc., 
was  greatly  exaggerated  in  its  belittleings  and  disparage 
ments  of  the  bar.  The  answer  to  what  he,  Talfourd,  says, 
is  to  be  found  in  the  line  of  superior  men  in  England,  the 
line  of  stocky  first-rate  Englishmen  who  have  given  them 
selves  to  the  law. 

Mansfield,  for  instance,  was  as  cultivated  and  refined 
and  lettered  as  Ned  Everett. 

The  Bar  can  be  looked  at  as  little  ;  as  having,  as  Cicero 
said,  all  its  controversies  about  "  three  kids  ;"  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  capable  of  being  regarded  with  enthusiasm 
and  devotion. 

Wirt  had  too  much  letters,  too  much  general  culture  ; 
and  he  saw  too  clearly  the  unfavorable  and  little  aspect  of 
the  law  ;  while  Pinkney,  not  thus  liberalized,  thought  there 
was  nothing  this  side  heaven  like  forensic  triumph.  There 
is,  though,  a  sight  of  truth  in  what  Talfourd  says,  but  if 


276     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

you  languish  in  the  pursuit  of  law,  read  Quintilian  and 
Cicero  and  enthusiastic  legal  writers. 

At  any  rate  you  must  have  a  profession,  and  if  you  are 
not  first-rate  in  that,  you  will  be  nothing,  and  can  not  have 
your  oiun  self-respect. 

What  is  always  delightful  and  noticeable  in  Erskine  is, 
that  besides  his  fine  diction  and  eloquence,  a  genuine  enthu 
siasm  for  his  profession  ever  breaks  out,  in  constantly  re 
curring  sentences  in  his  speeches,  such  as,  "  This  shrine  of 
Justice/'  "  This  revered  magistrate/'  etc. 

An  article  on  Pinkney  should  show  the  distinction  be 
tween  rhetoric  and  oratory  ;  between  him  who  goes  into 
the  Senate  for  an  occasional  speech,  crammed  and  gorgeous, 
and  him  who  makes  every-day  business  speeches,  able  and 
eloquent,  like  Clay  and  Webster. 

The  idea  that  there  is  a  want  of  sympathy  in  the  mass 
of  the  people  with  an  educated  man's  mind  is  much  exag 
gerated  in  general  belief.  Any  fine  thought  or  rich  expres 
sion  is  apprehended  by  the  common  mind,  somehow — vaguely 
at  first,  but  so  almost  any  thought  is  at  first  vaguely  and 
uncertainly  apprehended,  by  any  but  a  trained  mind. 

June  27. — Mr.  Choate  called  at  my  office  to-day,  to  see 
its  location.  I  had  recently  moved  into  it.  After  praising 
its  facilities  of  location  and  light,  he  began  to  talk  about 
politics.  It  was  in  the  middle  of  the  presidential  term  of 
Mr.  Franklin  Pierce.  He  said  he  thought  the  strain  on 
the  Union  was  now  far  fiercer  and  more  dangerous  than  in 
1850,  or  ever  before. 

He  spoke  of  the  Native  American  party.  They  have 
an  immense  fulcrum  of  power.  Every  laboring  man  of 
America  who  sees  a  foreigner  ill-clad  and  conditioned, 
standing  in  the  fields  of  labor,  and  underselling  him  in  his 
labor,  will  have  a  native  American  ticket  in  his  pocket. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.        277 

That  party  has  perennial  springs  of  power.  As  a  matter 
of  policy,  said  he,  I  should  advise  you  to  join  these  Know 
Nothings. 

June  28. — Having  occasion  to  stop  at  Mr.  Choate's 
house  to-day,  he  came  himself  to  the  door.  Said  he,  I'm 
all  alone  here  ;  come  in  and  dine  ;  I've  got  some  brandy  I 
can  give  you,  which  was  sent  to  me.  It  is  smooth  as  oil, 
but  sharp  as  a  sword. 

We  sat  down  and  he  began  as  usual,  at  once,  to  talk. 

Of  dinner  speeches  he  said — there  was  danger  of  being 
too  elaborate  in  them;  but  that  while  there  could  be  no 
fixed  rule  for  them,  they  should  be  such  as  would  make  all 
say,  "  That  speaker  is  a  smart  fellow/'  They  offer  oppor 
tunity  for  much  allusion  and  ornamentation,  and  for  much 
preparation  to  be  worked  in,  but  all  to  be  thrown  off  easily 
and  neglige-like. 

Tacitus,  he  said,  he  translated  daily — but  he  had  lately 
taken  up  an  author  as  new  to  him  as  the  Chinese  wall — 
namely  Pindar — full  of  gorgeousness  and  sententious- 
ness. 

Now,  said  he,  I  never  work  later  than  nine  in  the  even 
ing  without  being  sick  next  day;  but  I  always  rise  early  in 
the  morning  to  labor.  But  in  College  I  never  went  to  bed 
before  one  o'clock,  and  rose  very  early  to  Prayers,  without 
then  feeling  it. 

When  we  parted  he  said,  You  must  come  and  dine 
with  me  alone  here  some  day;  and  I'll  let  you  know  two 
days  beforehand,  for  I  want  then  a  dinner  as  is  a  dinner. 

July  7th. — In  accordance  with  the  intimation  thus 
given,  a  few  days  after,  Mr.  Choate  sent  for  me;  and  having 
ordered  a  very  nice  dinner,  I  anticipated  that  he  would  en 
joy  himself  in  partaking  of  his  own  good  cheer  with  me. 
But  when  the  day  came,  he  was  in  the  middle  of  a  case, 


278      KEMINISCENCES     OF      R  UF  US      C  II  0  A  T  E 

which  however  went  over  to  the  next  day;  but  he  was  too 
unwell  to  drink  anything  but  a  little  brandy — medicinally, 
as  he  smilingly  said,  although  his  table  sparkled  with  wines 
which  an  epicure  might  envy.  His  mind,  however,  needed 
no  stimulus;  and  among  many  other  things,  he  said — ot 
Cicero  :  Cicero's  course  is  thought  by  the  German  school 
to  show  him  to  be  a  trimmer  in  politics — but  we  must 
remember  that  the  age  was  a  very  warlike  one,  and  the  Ee- 
public  was  in  its  last  stage  of  degeneracy.  And  he  being  a 
pure  literary  man  was  as  much  out  of  his  element  as  would 
now  be  Judge  Story  or  Edward  Everett,  if  the  State  were 
controlled  by  warriors.  Cicero  knew  what  he  wanted  well 
enough,  but  how  to  get  it  in  the  circumstances  which  sur 
rounded  him  demanded  some  trimming.  But  on  the  whole, 
his  course  is  entirely  defensible,  if  we  take  into  view  all  the 
surroundings. 

The  attitude  of  the  New  England  clergy  on  the  slavery 
question  I  disapprove  of.  They  seem  to  be  carried  away 
with  a  view  of  duty  as  seen  from  one  single  relation  only. 
A  comparison  of  duties  or  a  yielding  of  an  impracticable 
good,  for  the  far  grander  good  of  a  nationality  pregnant 
with  happiness  to  generations — they  seem  unable  to  ap 
prehend.  The  slave  who  was  not  reduced  into  servitude 
by  us,  can  advance  no  claim  of  right  to  our  aid.  It  is  no 
business  of  ours.  Then,  as  a  mere  question  of  rival  phi 
lanthropies  to  him  or  to  the  nation,  a  treatise  might  be 
written,  which  should  be  built  upon  all  the  great  ethical 
writers  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  which  should  be  at 
once  comprehensive  and  rigorously  logical,  and  which  would 
settle  the  question.  Such  a  treatise  I  at  this  moment  know 
but  one  man  who  could  write;  that  is  Dr.  Walker,  of  Cam 
bridge. 

Charles  Sumner's  position  as  to  swearing  to  support 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  279 

the  Constitution  as  he  understands  it,  I  think  entirely 
untenable.  It  is  the  lowest  degree  of  Jacksonism. 

Mr.  Webster  always  used  to  say,  pale  sherry  is  good  for 
nothing  ;  "  he  hasn't  anything  to  him." 

After  talking  about  an  hour,  he  said  he  had  business  in 
his  office,  to  which  he  must  go,  but,  said  he,  I  will  leave 
you  in  possession  of  the  table,  the  liquor  and  the  library, 
and  you  can  have  full  swing  there.  And  so  saying,  he 
went  out. 

I  mention  such  little  unimportant  traits  and  observa 
tions  as  these,  of  his,  because  they  show  how  simple  and 
playful  and  natural  this  great  man  was,  in  his  familiar  and 
unrestrained  intercourse. 

In  another  conversation  about  this  time,  I  mentioned 
to  Mr.  Choate  that  I  had  heard  from  a  friend  of  Mr.  Web 
ster's  that  he  said  he  wished  he  had  never  been  born,  and 
added  that  the  sentiments  of  Frederic  of  Prussia,  as  con 
tained  in  one  of  his  letters,  suited  him  (Webster)  exactly, 
and  coincided  with  his  own  views. 

Mr.  Choate  said  that  this  must  have  been  a  momentary 
fit  of  gloom,  occasioned  by  disaster  •  for  Webster  was 
rather  a  constitutionally  happy  man.  Undoubtedly  he 
had  been  greatly  exercised  in  mind  upon  religious  themes 
— upon  our  present  and  future  relations  with  God — upon 
the  great  mystery  of  life.  But  as  he  grew  older  in  life  he 
grew  more  attached  to  it.  This  is  the  natural  operation, 
said  Choate,  of  time.  A  man  is  not  happy  in  the  world 
till  he  has  secured  a  position  in  it.  Till  then  he  is  &  fresh 
man  on  the  earth.  Every  year  after  that  generally  gives 
him  new  associations  and  satisfactions  with  the  world. 
An  old  man  never  commits  suicide — it's  your  young  man 
who  squanders  happiness. 

November  18th. — Mr.   Choate   said  to  me   in  court, 


280  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

day,  I'm  going  to  try  to  get  you  an  invitation  to  speak 

at college  ;  and,  if  I  accomplish  it;  you  may  take 

the  roofs  off  of  six  houses. 

December  4th. — Mr.  Choate  gave  me  an  instance,  to 
day,  of  his  minute  attention  to  trifles,  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  vast  and  engrossing  concerns  of  business.  He  came 
looming  into  my  office  simply  to  explain  and  regret  that  a 
certain  invitation  had  not  reached  me,  which  he  knew  had 
been  sent.  Thus  attentive  he  always  was  to  the  least 
minutiae,  of  the  wants  and  feelings  of  friendship.  I  never 
asked  him  to  write  letters  of  introduction,  or  to  do  the 
friendly  office  of  saying  something  to  individuals  which 
wouM  promote  desired  objects,  that  he  was  not  sure  to 
have  the  letters  all  written  at  the  time  named,  and  the 
words  all  said  to  the  persons  indicated. 

He  never  forgot  anything  in  his  heart  or  in  his  head. 

1855. 

May. — Mr.  Choate,  while  still  suffering  from  the  effects 
of  an  operation  on  his  knee,  asked  me  to  drive  out  with 
him  in  a  close  carriage.  The  period  of  his  gradual  conva 
lescence  from  this  sickness  was  almost  the  only  time  I  ever 
saw  him  in  a  close  carriage.  He  never  rode  or  drove.  1 
never  knew  him,  in  all  my  acquaintance  with  him,  to  take 
the  reins  in  his  hand  on  any  occasion.  Nor  did  he  ever 
ride  on  horseback. 

On  this  occasion,  we  drove  round  through  Cambridge 
and  by  the  colleges,  and  through  other  roads  of  the  lovely 
environs  of  Boston.  With  his  limb  bolstered  up  across 
the  carriage,  he  lay  back  and  talked.  He  hardly  noticed 
the  scenery,  but  ruminated,  soliloquized  and  conversed. 
Many  things  he  observed  which  it  would  be  hardly  quite 
delicate  to  bring  to  the  public  eye. 


Kansas  was  now  a  fruitful  subject  of  apprehension  in 
the  republic.  Mr.  Choate  said,  In  Kansas,  blood  will  be 
shed  yet  ;  but  that  is  not  the  great  danger.  The  danger 
in  our  Union  is,  that  a  State,  qua  (as)  a  State,  in  its  sov 
ereign  capacity,  shall  declare  war  and  take  the  field.  When 
ever  a  State,  qua  (as)  a  State,  shall  come  out  against  the 
national  government,  we  can't  do  anything  ;  for  that 
which  ordinarily  would  be  treason,  is,  as  it  were,  saved 
from  being  so  by  the  flag  of  the  State  ;  certainly,  at  least, 
so  far  as  to  save  the  point  of  honor. 

Herein  lurks  the  great  danger  of  our  system  of  govern 
ment. 

While  I  have  been  sick,  I  have  been  reading  JEschi- 
nes'  Oration  on  the  Crown,  in  order  more  fully  to  master 
Demosthenes  by  first  mastering  the  attack  which  he  re 
pelled. 

Every  day  but  two  during  my  whole  sickness  I've  read 
and  studied.  My  mental  powers  have  been  through  it  all 
perfectly  strong.  In  the  morning  I  have  had,  during  all 
my  confinement,  in  bed  or  up,  a  regular  course  of  reading. 
In  the  afternoon  I  read  miscellaneously  till  the  evening 
paper  comes.  And  I  get  along  very  well,  though  I  find 
myself  sometimes  anxious  for  the  newspaper  to  arrive  ; 
and  you  know,  he  added,  laughingly,  a  man  must  be  in  a 
bad  way  when  he  finds  himself  impatient  for  the  evening 
paper. 

To  appreciate  the  resoluteness  of  this  intellectual  ac 
tivity,  the  reader  must  remember  that  this  sickness  had 
been  so  violent  that  Mr.  Choate  was  compelled  to  take 
ether  for  a  severe  operation  upon  his  knee;  yet  every  day 
but  two  lie  had  studied.  He  told  me  that  when  he  took 
the  ether  it  was  all  very  pleasant  till  the  moment  came  of 
surrendering  consciousness — then  it  was  like  death. 


282         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

He  went  on  in  this  same  conversation  to  observe,  that 
without  a  methodical  course  of  reading,  any  one  who  has 
much  leisure  and  freedom  gets  ennuyed. 

It's  a  great  advantage  for  man,  said  he,  that  separate 
governments  are  instituted,  where  political  offenders  may 
find  refuge  from  each  other.  In  the  Roman  empire  period, 
the  fugitive  from  the  Cassars  could  not  rest  anywhere  from 
the  sleepless  eye  and  the  avenging  sword. 

Cicero  might  well  put  out  his  head  from  his  litter  to 
meet  death  ;  for,  to  no  shore,  in  safety  or  in  honor,  could 
lie  fly  who  had  filled  the  consulship  of  Rome. 

Returning  to  American  politics,  Mr.  Choate  said,  the 
Know  Nothings  will  elect  the  next  President,  if  they  carry 
Virginia,  as  I  think  they  will.  Fillmore  or  Seward,  prob 
ably  the  former,  will  be  the  man.  [They  didn't  carry  Vir 
ginia.] 

July  30. — In  conversation  to-day,  Mr.  CJioate  said  he 
thought  George  Hillard's  argument  at  Dedham  on  the 
slave  case  suit  against  the  City  was  about  as  eloquent  and 
fine  a  performance  as  he  ever  heard  in  court. 

He  said  that  during  his  long  sickness  Edward  Everett 
came  two  or  three  times  a  week  to  see  him,  and  read  to 
him  his  journal  and  other  things.  Said  Choate,  I  love 
Everett  more  now  and  understand  him  better  than  I  ever 
did  before  in  all  my  life. 

He  spoke  of  politics.  Said  he,  I  think  the  state  of 
politics  here  is  now  so  hopelessly  discouraging  that  a  man 
may  be  pardoned  for  entirely  abandoning  it  for  the  present. 
and  giving  neither  aid,  advice  or  anything  else  to  his  coun 
try.  Though,  generally,  I  consider  it  wrong  to  desert  the 
interests  of  your  country,  merely  because  you  don't  like  its 
management. 

September '26. — American  Politics. — No  one,  Mr.  Choate 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.  283 

said,  could  do  anything  in  politics  of  consequence,  except 
by  making  it  a  deliberate  experiment,  business,  and  occupa 
tion.  If  a  man  does  that,  he  runs  all  the  risks  of  being 
thrown  over  any  moment  by  a  fickle  and  demagogue-blind 
ed  people.  You  have  to  mix  for  ever  with  people  whom 
you  can't  shake  off;  while,  also,  you  have  to  labor  with 
much  more  serious  and  brain- taxing  themes  (if  you  aspire 
to  the  rank  of  statesman,  not  a  mere  politician)  in  Con 
gress  than  at  the  Bar.  „  At  the  latter,  a  man  has  his  side 
given  to  him  ;  then  he  labors  to  sustain  it.  In  politics 
you  have  to  cast  and  forecast  from  a  wider  and  much  more 
difficult  range  of  considerations,  what  side  the  party  shall 
take;  as  well  as  then,  afterwards,  go  through  the  toil  of  sup 
porting  it ;  and,  of  course,  no  man  of  decided  abilities 
wants  to  go  into  politics,  except  in  anticipation  of  march 
ing  on  through  high  steps  to  great  posts. 

Lastly,  if  a  man  goes  much  into  politics  with  Law,  he 
will  have  no  leisure  for  much  cultivation  and  gratification 
of  tastes — for  literature,  nature,  etc.,  and  all  the  finer  sensi 
bilities. 

It  is  well  enough,  at  some  portion  of  life,  for  an  Ameri 
can  to  go  into  Congress  for  a  brief  time,  if  opportunity  offers, 
as  a  sort  of  recreation  and  for  pleasurable  observation ;  but 
the  great  aim  of  a  young  man  should  be  legal  advocacy. 

If  I  myself  could  be  permanently  and  happily  in  the 
Senate,  he  went  on  to  say,  I  should  like  that  better  than 
anything  in  the  world  ;  but  to  be  just  enough  in  the  Sen 
ate  to  be  out  of  the  law,  and  not  enough  in  the  .Senate  to 
be  a  leader  in  politics,  is  a  sort  of  half-and-half  business 
very  contemptible. 

Then,  too,  if  one  did  go  much  into  politics,  the  having 
a  profession  of  law  to  retire  to,  would  always  afford  a  grace 
ful  pretext  of  retiring  in  dark  days.  Mr.  -  — ,  now  says 


284          REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

he  retires  to  take  care  of  his  private  affairs.  Whether  he 
does  or  no,  nobody  believes  him,  but  all  suppose  him  sulk 
ing  at  home. 

Now,  from  all  my  experience,  I  am  satisfied,  said  he,  that 
in  the  long  run  a  lawyer  in  Suffolk  county  can  have,  if  he 
be  bright  and  quick,  three  or  four  hours  a  day,  on  an  aver 
age,  for  his  literary  and  leisure  occupations. 

Moreover  a  New  Englander,  unless  he  be  a  Democrat, 
must  be  generally  shut  out  from  national  honors. 

William  Wirt's  reasons  for  avoiding  politics,  I  think, 
said  he,  rather  exquisite;  especially  considering  he  came 
from  Virginia  where  politics  are  so  universally  indulged 
in,  and  literature  has  so  little  place. 

Opium,  said  he,  I  do  not  think  Macaulay  takes  to  any 
extent ;  but  I  wonder  how  long  it  would  take  to  affect  the 
constitution  with  it.  I  never  took  any  in  my  life,  except 
as  laudanum  for  tooth  ache,  and  that  made  me  stupid. 

Macaulay  I  think  very  tiresome  to  read  long.  He  is  a 
fine  specimen  of  delicious  vices  of  composition — more  sin 
gular  than  Seneca.  He  has,  however,  an  abundance  of 
rich  and  rare  thoughts  ;  but  the  chief  fault  is  his  unvary 
ing  positiveness  and  certainty  on  all  themes  and  topics. 

Julius  CtT3sar  I  hold  a  much  higher  and  more  interest 
ing  character  than  Napoleon.  The  latter  was  always  a 
parvenu  after  all,  always  vulgar,  and  in  some  things  little. 

He  pointed  to  a  bronze  bust  on  the  mantel-piece.  This 
bust  of  Demosthenes,  said  he,  gives  no  intellectual  or  ex 
quisite  developments.  It  looks  like  a  coarse  nature,  and, 
as  far  as  regarded  his  animal  parts,  Demosthenes  was  so  ; 
but  the  force  of  his  genius,  and  the  fire  of  his  mind  and 
character,  broke  through  and  conquered  all. 

Opposite  to  it  was  a  bust  of  Cicero.  This  head  of 
Cicero,  said  he,  is  perfect.  He  was  a  true  literary  man, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     285 

but  early  leant  toward  oratory.  He  had  the  large  mouth 
which  eloquence  almost  always  gives  its  possessor.  Mr. 
Webster  had  a  large  mouth. 

Everett,  I  think,  will  be  the  next  Whig  candidate  for 
the  presidency,  unless  Seward  is.  I  think  him  the  most 
truly  sympathetic  with  the  mass,  the  most  progressive  and 
democratic  of  all  his  Beacon  street  set. 

H.  Gr.  Otis,  I  think,  was,  perhaps,  a  bigger  man  than 
Everett.  Everett  is  too  great  for  the  snobbish  pride  of 
ancestry  in  America  ;  he  is  above  it.  Neither  Otis  nor 
Everett  take  audiences  off  their  feet ;  but  Everett  some 
times  overwhelms  them  by  a  beautiful  picture. 

Fisher  Ames,  Patrick  Henry,  and  Whitefield,  were,  I 
think,  the  greatest  orators  out  of  the  pulpit  who  have 
flourished  in  our  country.  Ames  was  most  highly  emo 
tional,  pure,  and  good.  He  was  preeminently  fond  of  the 
Bible ;  especially  Deuteronomy  was  always  a  marvel  to  him. 

Caleb  Gushing  and  Rantoul  are  both  rather  Conti 
nental  than  English  minds.  Cushing' s  power  is  a  cease 
less,  strong,  mental  capacity.  It  makes  no  difference  to 
him  what  he's  at,  so  long  as  it  commands  the  attention  of 
man.  He'd  as  lief  be  one  of  us,  playing  pettifogger,  as 
statesman.  He  showed  very  great  power  as  judge  of  our 
Supreme  Court.  Had  he  stayed  there,  he  would  have  been 
the  first  Nisi  Prius  judge  in  the  Commonwealth. 

Rantoul  was  a  splendid  idealist.  I  don't  know  that  he 
had  more  heart  than  Cushing,  but  he  had  enthusiasm  for 
his  idealities.  In  the  long  run  he  might  have  come  out 
ahead  of  Cushing. 

Speaking  of  a  ticket  for  State  officers  which  he  very 
much  disliked,  in  a  State  near  by  Massachusetts,  he  said, 
I  fear  the  people  of  that  State  will  wake  up  some  morning 
and  find  themselves  under  a  dynasty  of  blackguards  ! 


286          KEMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE. 

I  consider,  he  remarked.,  that  Sir  William  Hamilton  has 
the  best  command  of  English  *of  any  man  now  living ;  bet 
ter  even  than  De  Quincey. 

Mr. ;  said  he,  is  a  good  fellow,  but  Fm  inclined  to 

think  he  has  nothing  in  him.    He's  a  Fisher  Ames  without 
his  genius. 

November  11. — I  was  gratified  yesterday  by  a  long- 
promised  visit  from  Mr.  Choate.  He  came  out  of  town  to 
my  house,  stayed  some  time,  pulled  over  the  books,  and 
talked  freely.  The  Know  Nothing  party,  he  said,  is  the 
one  for  every  young  man  to  join  who  has  any  hopes.  I, 
said  he,  have  never  said  anything  against  the  Know 
Nothings.  And  at  this  moment  all  the  leading  Whigs  of 
the  country  are  either  of  them  or  tending  to  them — Clay 
ton,  Bell,  McLean,  and  others.  Now  that  the  Free  Soil 
leaders  are  discarded,  the  Whigs  have  really  no  leading  dif 
ference  with  them.  The  "  American"  sentiment  and  Slav 
ery  are  really  the  only  questions  absorbing  to  the  people, 
unless  a  war  arises.  The  American  sentiment  must  be 
powerful,  practically,  for  it  takes  hold  of  the  grosser  and 
most  vulgar  sensibilities  and  ideas.  Everybody  feels  big 
ger,  as  an  American,  for  seeing  a  raw  foreigner  beside  him. 
It  comes  right  home  to  'em.  If  they  manage  right  they'll 
make  the  next  President — Bell,  or  McLean,  or  Fillinore. 

Men  have  their  periods. 

Otis  Lord  I  think  one  of  the  very  ablest  men  in  this 
State. 

We  can't  tell  whether  Sumner  is  to  be  chosen  again  to 
the  Senate  from  this  State,  till  the  close  of  the  session  of 
Congress  this  winter,  for  there'll  be  a  tremendous  Kansas 
debate  there. 

S.  S.  Prentiss  was  damaged  in  the  gulf  of  gaming. 
Wellington,  after  Waterloo,  was  seriously  involved  by  it. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.  287 

Love  of  excitement  is  what  drives  men  to  it.  Wellington, 
after  being  in  battle  thirty  years,  couldn't  settle  down  to 
common  life.  But  afterwards  he  got  interested  in  public 
affairs,  and  that  occupied  him. 

France  is  the  first  power  in  the  world,  now.  But  I 
don't  see  any  evidence  of  great  mind  or  power  in  Marshal 
Pelissier,  although  the  taking  of  Sebastopol  was  a  marvel 
ous  feat  of  arms.  But  it  was  the  French  army  which  did 
it.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  they  made  peace  this  win 
ter,  in  Europe. 

Cicero. — There's  an  article  in  the  Westminster  on  him. 
But  there's  room  yet  for  a  great  article  which  shall  do  jus 
tice  to  him.  The  Germans  have  done  nothing  but  attack 
him.  But  it  isn't  enough  considered  in  what  a  position 
he  was.  He  was  a  civilian,  and  we,  looking  back  and  see 
ing  now  what  the  men  of  arms  were  going  to  do  with  the 
State,  judge  him  as  if  he  knew.  (Choate  was  always 
stirred  up  when  Cicero  was  disparaged.)  I  showed  him 
some  horses  and  large  stalls,  but  he  admitted  that  he  took 
no  interest  in  horses,  nothing  like  what  he  did  in  a  book. 
I  never  could  get  up  any  interest  in  them  particularly, 
said  he. 

Macaulay  (he  went  on)  won  attention  for  his  Parlia 
mentary  efforts  by  his  previously-acquired  literary  repute. 
His  fame,  though,  is  all  that  of  literary  speech-making. 
For  all  his  writing  is  in  the  forensic  style. 

1856. 

March  15. — Had  a  talk  with  Choate  this  afternoon. 
He  observed,  Macauiay's  3d  and  4th  volumes  are  powerful ; 
but  all  his  History  is  a  departure  from  the  established  rules 
of  that  sort  of  composition.  He  is  far  too  emphatic  and 
certain  in  his  facts  and  conclusions  for  history.  He  goes 


288     REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

at  the  reign  of  William  with  a  power  and  a  pomp  worthy 
of  the  History  of  the  Koman  Empire.  I  like  Gibbon  bet 
ter  ;  there  is  more  of  an  air  of  learning  (in  its  technical 
sense)  about  him  ;  not  pamphlet  and  detail  learning.,  such 
as  Macaulay  bristles  with.  Indeed,  I  like  Prescott's  his 
torical  style  better. 

1  Bolingbroke  I  had  always  a  profound  admiration  for 
intellectually.  He  stands,  as  a  speaker,  among  the  very 
foremost  of  those  who  have  ever  spoken  in  England.  He 
was,  I  think,  a  cross  between  Chatham  and  the  younger 
Pitt ;  he  spoke  better  than  the  latter,  but  had  not  the  tre 
mendous  outbursts  of  power  of  the  former.  But  his  diction, 
his  command  of  trains  of  thought  and  acumen  philosophi 
cally,  gave  him  for  general  debate  great  advantages. 

The  best  article  on  Cicero  is  one  by  Frere,  in  one  of  the 
Reviews.  He  admits  that  Demosthenes  would  be  consid 
ered  at  the  head  of  men  for  orators  ;  but  then  goes  on  to 
say  Cicero  is  to  be  considered  also  as  a  writer. 

The  best  thing  on  Demosthenes,  I  think,  is  Legare's 
article  in  the  Nciv  York  Review,  not  for  critical  analysis 
of  style  so  much  as  for  all  the  influential  part  of  Demos 
thenes — that  which  will  operate  on  succeeding  generations 
in  their  education  and  standard  for  oratory. 

There's  a  capital  thing  on  Bolingbroke  in  the  West 
minster  Review,  by  Edward  Bulwer. 

Speaking  of  the  President's  proclamation  in  regard  to 
Kansas,  Mr.  Choate  said  he  must  put  down  border  incur 
sion,  or  the  government  would  be  defiled.  Then  he  paused 
a  moment,  and  said  he,  What  is  that  fine  passage  in 
Gibbon,  where,  speaking  of  the  reign  of  Justinian,  he  says 
the  world  is  defiled,  or  some  such  word,  by  a  plague,  or 
anything  which  diminishes  greatly  the  human  species  ? 
I  suggested  desolated  ;  but  he  thought  that  was  not  it. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHUATE.   '283 

In  this  is  observable  his  careful  notice  and  recollection 
of  exact  expressions  and  phrases.  Probably  it  was  years 
since  he  had  read  Gibbon,  yet  here  he  was  minutely  recall 
ing  not  only  his  larger  facts,  but  his  minute  diction. 

He  said  of  his  Lecture  on  the  Poet  Rogers,  announced 
for  Monday,  the  17th,  that  he  had  prepared  it  quite  care 
fully,  and,  therefore,  it  ivould  not  probably  be  q,  popular 
discourse.  He  was  going  to  discuss  poetry  somewhat,  and 
upon  the  whole,  it  was  written  more  for  his  own  gratifica 
tion  of  congenial  and  pleasant  trains  of  thought  than  for 
the  public  taste.  It  would  please  only  a  cultivated  audi 
ence.  The  characteristics  of  the  age  he  should  describe 
only  so  far  as  to  picture  its  thunder  and  lightning,  with 
whose  electricity  the  poets  of  the  day  in  common  with 
others  became  charged.  In  no  other  way  could  he  describe 
the  age  without  breaking  the  unity  of  the  discourse. 

He  should  speak  only  of  what  might  have  been  remem 
bered  by  Rogers  ;  he  is  a  clasp  of  twenty-five  great  years. 
I  couldn't  do  otherwise,  however,  he  said,  than  to  make  a 
splurge  at  the  close  about  Hiawatha  ;  and  I  am  going  to 
yield  so  far  to  Americanism  as  to  pay  a  tribute,  in  wind 
ing  up,  to  three  American  poets  who  are  my  own  favorites, 
Dana,  Bryant  and  Longfellow.  Hiawatha,  he  said,  was 
more  striking  and  indicative  of  the  poetical  fancy  than  he 
had  originally  supposed  ;  for  its  repulsive  measure  repelled 
him  at  first,  as  it  must  always  prevent  its  permanent  pop 
ularity.  But  Longfellow  was  a  better  poet  at  this  moment 
than  Tennyson. 

Fillmore,  he  thought,  had  no  chance  for  the  Presidency. 
The  Native  American  organization,  as  an  organization,  if 
they  took  him  up,  would  give  him  a  chance ;  but  they 
seemed  rather  to  repudiate  the  nomination.  But  probably 
the  Democrats  will  elect  their  man. 

13 


290  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

Pinkney  must  naturally  have  spoken  eloquently  ;  for 
he  had  a  great  repute  as  a  young  man  in  Maryland  before 
he  got  his  words.  Webster  followed  him  in  his  last  argu 
ment  and  sounded  bald  ;  but  he  had  a  grand  dignity  in 
opening,  which  did  more  than  to  compensate  for  any  de 
ficiency  in  gay  words. 

To  my  remark,  that  Pinkney  liked  Pitt's  cold  sonorous 
ness,  Mr.  Choate  said;  Pitt  had  no  cold  sonorousness,  but  a 
majestic  dignity  of  warmth. 

.Cicero  I  (Choate)  never  have  read  without  being  en 
couraged  and  strengthened  ;  his  views  of  life  are  always 
healthy  and  cheerful  and  sound.  I  was  not  aware  of  the 
vastness  of  his  vanity,  however,  till  I  read  him  during  my 
sickness  very  much.  In  one  of  his  letters  to  Atticus,  he 
says,  "  I  spoke  with  a  divine  power  to  the  Senate.  There 
never  was  anything  like  it." 

I  don't  think,  Mr. (a  speaker)  was  on  high  key 

too  much.  I  lost  some  of  his  lowest  words,  but  that's  in 
evitable,  if  you  use  the  downward  slide;  and  the  upward  is 
French,  and  bad. 

March  25. — Mr.  Choate's  practical  interest  in  his  clas 
sics  appeared  to-day  in  a  little  incident  in  court.  He  was 
in  a  marine  insurance  case.  The  opposite  counsel  pro 
nounced  the  name  of  the  ship,  "  Neptunus,"  accenting  the 
letter  u  in  the  penult  as  if  long.  Choate  got  right  up,  and 
wandered  back  to  the  rear  row  of  seats,  and  asked  me  if  I 
didn't  think  that  syllable  was  short,  and  the  lawyer  was 
wrong.  I  replied,  I  thought  it  was  long.  Then,  said  he, 
rubbing  his  head  and  thinking  a  moment,  I'm  against 
you ;  it's  short.  Having  thus  aired  his  classics  briefly, 
he  rolled  back  again  into  his  place,  and  was  lost  in  his 
law. 

May  11,  '56. — In  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Choate  to- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFTJS-CHOATE.      291 

day,  he  said,  there  were  preeminently  three  great  masters 
of  style  in  the  world's  history.  Plato,  who  added  little  to 
the  world's  thought,  but  whose  style  of  thought  and  dic 
tion  stimulated  ten  thousand  minds  ;  Bacon,  and  Burke. 
To  these  also  maybe  added  Virgil,  as  a  splendid  master  of 
words. 

Prescott's  history  gains  on  me,  he  said.  I  find  him  dull 
at  first.  Bancroft,  notwithstanding  his  myriad  faults  of 
style,  is  making,  on  the  whole,  a  pretty  strong  impression 
by  his  work  as  a  history  of  American  civilization. 

He  said  he  could  only  compose  by  shutting  himself  up 
to  it.  He  could  do  nothing  in  the  way  of  written  compo 
sition  if  interrupted.  In  composing,  he  was  led  off,  he 
said,  into  such  a  range  of  verification  of  fact  or  suggestion 
of  thoughts  that,  for  instance,  in  his  "  Rogers"  lecture, 
there  was  hardly  a  sentence,  I  vow,  said  he,  that  I  wrote, 
without  glancing  into  more  or  less  of  at  least  fifty  books. 

June  19. — Colonel  Fremont  was  nominated  this  month 
for  the  presidency.  It  led  to  a  long  and  interesting  argu 
ment  between  Mr.  Choate  and  the  author.  The  great  por 
tion  of  his  observations  it  would  not.be  quite  proper  to 
publish,  although  his  opposition  to  the  Republican  nom 
inee  was  unequivocally  pronounced  from  the  first.  He  ob 
served.  Every  duty  and  taste  is  against  this  party  of  the 
sections.  They  will  conduct  a  canvass  every  speech  of 
which  will  be  charged  with  hatred  to  one  portion  of  the 
country.  I  never  will  march  in  their  party.  I  don't  alto 
gether  like  the  Democratic  party  ;  and,  at  present,  I  pro 
pose  to  keep  still. 

I  have  never  yet,  however,  seen  the  good  argument  that 
slavery  wasn't  better  for  the  blacks  than  freedom,  as  re 
gards  merely  their  sensations — the  gratification  of  their 
merely  sensual  wants.  But  slavery  makes  their  whole 


292       REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE. 

moral  and  intellectual  character  a  wreck  ;  and  if  they  are 
women,  they  are  damned. 

Brooks'  act  of  scoundrelism  in  beating  Charles  Sumner 
was  his  own  act,  not  the  act  of  the  South.  It  is  small  to 
make  it  a  southern  act. 

A  man  of  large,  calm  pride,  will  be  above  noticing  the 
r  petty  arrogance  of  the  South  ;  just  as  Macaulay  never  for 
a  moment  condescends  to  notice  the  constant  assumption 
of  superiority  which  every  Englishman  feels  for  a  Scotch 
man — and  he  is  full  of  Scotch  blood. 

July  8. — Mr.  Choate,  a  month  after  the  foregoing  con 
versation,  told  me  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  vote  for 
Buchanan,  the  democratic  nominee  for  President  of  the 
Union.  He  said  he  felt  it  clearly  to  be  his  duty  ;  for 
the  Fremont  party  was  a  sectional,  anti-Union  party,  and 
nothing  should  be  undone  to  defeat  it.  But  whether  he 
should  say  anything  in  the  way  of  a  speech,  in  the  cam 
paign,  he  did  not  know.  But,  said  he,  silence  in  such 
a  sad  state  of  things  as  environs  us  now,  is  profoundly 
ignominious. 

In  another  conversation,  he  said,  Fisher  Ames  was 
something  like  Everett.  One  of  the  most  impressive 
things  Ames  ever  said  was  when  a  murder  or  some  shock 
ing  crime  was  committed  in  Dedham  ;  and  the  citizens 
turned  out  in  mass  to  hunt  the  culprit,  who  had  fled  to 
the  woods.  Ames  made  them  a  speech,  concluding,  "  Let 
no  man  sleep  in  Dedham  this  night."  This  sentence,  they 
say,  sounded  like  an  awful  adjuration. 

I  (Choate)  saw  Pinkney  in  his  last  argument,  so  furious 
that  he  turned  right  round,  his  hands  both  high  in  the  air, 
and  screaming  at  the  very  top  of  his  voice.  Pinkney  was 
far  more  furious  and  savage  than  Everett,  therefore  more 
impressive.  But  then  Pinkney  had  been  always  conversant 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    293 

with  affairs  of  real  business  ;  whereas  the  course  of  Ev 
erett's  life  has  taken  him  more  amid  idealities. 

Cicero  was  very  vehement,  hut  he  spoke  apte.  The 
Italians,  in  the  Roman  and  the  modern  day  both,  are,  after 
all,  more  excitable  than  the  Greek.  The  stamping  of  foot, 
the  frenzy  of  eye  more  common  with  them.  Cicero  the 
Italian,  breaks  out,  you  see,  in  his  speeches,  in  every  form 
of  adjuration  and  invocation. 

To  wade  through  two  or  three  volumes  of  Macaulay  is 
perfect  pounding  of  intense  rhetoric.  It  is  more  tedious 
than  Gruicciardini ;  he  is  an  essayist,  not  a  historian. 

December  27,  '56. — Choate  sent  for  me  to-day,  to  ask 
if  I  had  ever  written  on  a  subject  which  he  was  contem 
plating  for  a  lecture  :  "  The  influence  of  revolutions  on 
civil  eloquence"  was  the  theme  he  proposed;  and,  said  he, 
I  mean  to  take  the  ground  that  a  revolutionary  age  of  a 
nation  is  the  time  for  the  highest  eloquence  to  appear; 
and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  history  proves  it. 

Clay  and  Webster  missed  of  appropriate  topics  for  the 
greatest  agony  of  eloquence.  They  came  to  conduct  and 
celebrate  a  nation  already  born;  but  Grattan,  who  worked 
out  the  parliamentary  revolution  for  Ireland  is  the  greatest 
of  her  orators.  His  tAvo  best  speeches  are  the  one  in  1780; 
and  that  where  he  begins  "  I  address  a  new  nation!' 

Grattan  was  a  most  remarkable  man.  All  his  life  from 
boyhood  he  was  haunted  with  the  passion  to  be  an  orator. 
From  the  time  he  heard  Chatham  this  was  the  main  sub 
ject  of  his  thoughts.  He  appears  to  have  had  a  gloomy, 
saturnine  disposition — rather  an  unbeliever,  like  all  those 
men,  Pitt  and  Fox  ;  that  is,  they  didn't  particularly  be 
lieve  any  tiling  ;  for  they  didn't  think  much  about  religious 
matters. 

Cicero  had  no  topics  either — no  agony  of  his  country. 


294         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

Rome  could  be  in  no  danger  from  a  foreign  foe.  He  is  a 
rhetorician — a  brilliant  mind  coming  forward  and  finding- 
oratory  a  great  arm  of  display,  and  studying  it;  and  almost 
all  the  Ciceronian  eloquence,  therefore,  is  epideictic  and 
panegyrical. 

Demosthenes,  on  the  contrary,  had  the  rescue  and  sal 
vation  of  Greece  on  his  tongue. 

So  with  Mirabeau,  and  the  French  orators.  France 
had  universal  Christendom  against  her. 

Kossuth  had  the  revolution  and  hope  of  Hungary  as 
his  theme — a  flash  in  the  pan  to  be  sure,  but  a  great  theme. 

These  thoughts,  Choate  said,  he'd  only  thought  of  over 
night,  and  they  were  crude,  but  he  meant  to  work  them  out. 

Chatham,  he  said,  was  an  exception  to  the  rule  and 
principle  he  contended  for. 

1857. 

January  15th7  1857. — Mr.  Choate  and  Mr.  George  Hil- 
lard  came  out  and  dined  with  me  a  day  or  two  ago  ;  and 
the  conversation  was  very  interesting.  I  see  that  Mr.  Web 
ster,  in  his  letters,  regrets  not  having  preserved  memorials 
of  the  conversations  of  eminent  men  with  whom  he  was 
thrown,  and  it  is  a  just  regret. 

The  eloquence  of  America,  said  Choate,  now  corresponds 
with  the  Livian  age  of  Rome's  eloquence  ;  when  the  Con 
suls  were  coming  home  annually  with  new  triumphs,  when 
everybody  was  glad  and  hopeful.  It  is  the  ascending  age 
of  America. 

But  Cicero's  age  was  the  descending  age  of  Rome. 
And  there's  a  vein  of  sadness  runs  through  it  all. 

One  of  the  great  characteristics  of  Webster's  eloquence 
is,  that  he  glows  and  burns  and  rises  with  the  tides  of  hope- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   295 

ful  passion  of  a  great  young  nation.  Moreover,  he  couldn't 
have  got  off  the  great  Hayne  speech  in  England.  It's  too 
eloquent,  and  brings  in  too  many  outside  topics  for  their 
customs.  They  stand  right  up  in  Parliament,  with  their 
hands  in  their  pockets,  and  hum  and  ha. 

Hillard  observed  that  Brougham  as  Chancellor,  it  was 
said,  dashed  off  his  judgments  hit  or  miss.  Well,  said 
Choate,  any  decision  was  better  than  none;  and  at  any  rate, 
Wellington  thanked  him  for  it. 

He  spoke  of  a  young  Boston  lawyer  of  great  promise. 
He  said,  he  is  in  danger  of  narrowing  his  mind.  If  he'd  go 
into  politics  more  his  judgment  would  be  liberalized.  He 
goes  on  to  Washington  with  me  sometimes,  and  I  observe 
that  he's  uncharitable  and  severe  as  to  those  he  don't  agree 
with.  If  he'd  widen  his  observation  he'd  be  more  charita 
ble  and  favorable  in  his  opinions.  I  think  that  commerce 
with  the  political  life  of  our  country  gives  on  the  whole  a 
better  view  of  men,  as  to  their  abilities,  etc. 

He  remarked  that  he  heard  Clay  appeal  to  Webster 
personally  to  leave  Tyler's  cabinet.  It  was  in  the  Vice 
President's  room  at  the  White  House.  It  was  only  two 
or  three  minutes,  but  it  was  a  grand  appeal — very  power 
ful.  Webster  never  answered  a  word.  He  took  it  all 
kindly.  He  felt  he  was  in  somewhat  of  a  false  position. 
As  Clay  went  out,  though,  he  looked  to  me  and  winked. 

Hillard  remarked,  that  when  Charles  Sumner  wrote  to 
Webster,  recommending  him  to  take  the  lead  of  the 
northern  feeling,  he  received  it  and  considered  it  in  the 
same  kind,  and  not  fractious  or  irritated  way. 

We  talked  of  Cicero.  I  said  that  I  had  heard  the 
opinion  expressed  that  Cicero  was  not  so  popular  with  the 
crowd — the  mass,  as  other  speakers;  and  I  thought  su 
preme  excellence  never  was  popular. 


296   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CROAT  E. 

Choate  said,  at  any  rate  Cicero  ivas  popular — very ; 
and  popular  with  the  mass  of  the  people. 

Mr.  Hillard  said  he  thought  Demosthenes  was  some 
what  of  a  humbug.  No  such  thing,  said  Choate.  Why, 
said  Mr.  Hillard,  the  speech  for  the  Crown  isn't  the  great 
est  thing  on  earth  ;  Webster's  Hayne  Speech  was  as  great. 
No,  said  Choate.,  the  Gothic  language  could  not  make  such 
a  speech  as  the  Oration  for  the  Crown.  It  hasn't  got  words 
to  make  it  out  of,  in  the  first  place  ;  and  then  consider, 
also,  that  it  was  a  defense  of  the  policy  Demosthenes  had 
pursued  for  thirty  years. 

But  how  little  we  know  or  find  of  the  remains  of  De 
mosthenes.  Cicero  can  only  say  of  him — "  dicitur  audi- 
visse  Platonem  ;"  but  of  Cicero  a  hundred  books  remain. 
I  advise  you  to  read  his  letters. 

Mr.  Choate  then  broke  out  in  a  denunciation  of  the 
modern  Germans,  etc.,  who  denounce  Cicero  as  a  "  trim 
mer."  The  truth  was,  that  in  his  day  arms  and  civility 
alternated  in  command  ;  and  as  they  did  so,  he  turned 
first  to  one,  and  then  to  the  other,  as  the  source  of  the 
power  which  he  wished  to  invoke.  But,  said  Choate, 
these  book  men.,  who  know  nothing  about  affairs,  about 
actually  governing  men,  and  how  difficult  it  is  to  steer, — 
for  them  to  sit  in  their  studies,  and  judge  Cicero  and 
Webster  !  It's  absurd. 

After  all,  the  only  man  among  the  living  whom  I 
(Choate)  care  to  bring  over  to  appreciate:  Cicero  is  Macau- 
lay. 

But,  said  Mr.  Hillard,  Macaulay  never  had  any  influ 
ence  or  real  participation  in  practical  affairs  in  govern 
ment  in  England.  He  was  laughed  at  by  the  men  of  busi 
ness  in  government.  Yes,  said  Choate,  he's  the  literary 
man — literary  temperament  all  over.  Cicero  had  the  lite- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.        297 

rary  and  practical  temperament,  and  power  too,  but  the 
former  predominated. 

I  want  yet,  said  Choate;  with  enthusiasm.,  to  write  on 
Cicero,  and  do  him  justice  ;  and  I  would  lecture  on  him, 
but  I  should  inevitably  be  too  polemical. 

I  get  up  at  six  (December)  and  make  myself  a  cup  of 
tea,  which  sustains  me  till  breakfast — an  hour  of  work.  I 
go  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock.  Everybody  ought  to,  who  tvorks. 
Tea  is  the  best  stimulant.  But  black  tea  is  not  so  stimu 
lating  as  green,  not  more  so  than  hot  water  ;  hot  water 
alone  is  reasonably  stimulating.  Burke  stimulated  on  it. 
Yes,  said  Mr.  Hillard,  and  in  Athens  there  were  places  in 
'the  streets  where  hot  water  was  sold. 

I  have  not  regarded  Benton,  said  Choate,  (Benton  was 
now  lecturing  here,)  as  a  man  of  wisdom. 

S.  S.  Prentiss,  both  Mr.  Choate  and  Mr.  Hillard  con 
curred  in  saying,  was  a  marvelous  orator  ;  but  Choate 
thought  that  strength  of  understanding  was  among  his  very 
highest  powers. 

Choate  said  :  Caleb  Cushing's  knowledge  and  power  of 
labor  was  wonderful.  He  is  like  Brougham,  but  a  better 
writer,  though  not  so  good  a  speaker. 

1857. 

January  20. — Mr.  Choate  to-day  argued  a  heavy  in 
surance  case  against  Mr.  George  Hillard  with  great  vehe 
mence,  energy,  and  felicity  ;  and  it  shows  the  rapid  and 
wide  play  of  his  mind  that  he  had  hardly  finished  his  per 
oration,  Avhen  he  turned  round  to  me,  and  began  to  talk 
about  a  literary  theme  which  he  and  I  discussed  the  last 
time  we  met.  Said  he,  I  was  wrong  in  deeming  Cicero  an 
orator  who  would  not  support  my  theory  that  the  great 
est  eloquence  is  only  born  in  revolutions.  I  have  looked 


298   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

that  whole  subject  over  again  since,  and  I  think  him  emi 
nently  an  example  in  point ;  and  so  I  mean  to  say  in  my 
lecture  this  winter. 

February  3d. — Mr.  Choate  remarked,  in  talking  with 
me  about  editing  a  volume  of  his  Addresses,  forensic  and 
general,  that  he  was  willing  I  should  do  it,  and  while  he 
lived  he  should  suffer  no  one  else  to  do  it.  But,  I  think, 
upon  reflection,  he  determined  that  nobody  should  do  it ; 
for  I  never  could  get  him  to  do  his  part  in  the  preparation. 
And  without  his  own  revision  he  would  not  consent  to  any 
authorized  publication.  On  the  whole,  I  think  he  was  con 
tent  with  traditional  preservation. 

His  lecture  on  the  Sea,  which  was  extremely  popular, 
was  stolen  out  of  his  pocket,  long  ago,  but,  ho  said,  for  six 
years  afterwards,  he  could  have  repeated  it  word  for  word. 
However,  said  he,  I  think  I  can  dig  up  a  good  deal  of  it  out 
of  my  mind,  with  you  now. 

He  remarked  on  the  very  evanescent  nature  of  tradi 
tionary  repute — in  reply  to  my  suggestion  that  he  did  not 
take  half  care  enough  of  his  fame — and  observed  how  en 
tirely  Samuel  Dexter  had  faded  from  memory;  of  whom, 
said  he,  I  used  to  hear  the  elder  generation  of  judges  and 
lawyers  say  that  he  had  made  arguments  greater  than  Web 
ster's.  I  didn't  believe  it,  though,  for  all  that. 

March  23. — I  introduced  a  young  man  of  letters  to  Mr. 
Choate  to-day  ;  and  talking  about  Cicero's  letters,  how  su 
perior  to  Webster's,  it  led  him  on  to  Style. 

Tacitus,  he  said,  was  far  richer  and  more  compact  style 
than  Cicero's;  his  was  a  spoken  style  ;  but  Tacitus  was 
the  Macaulay  of  antiquity. 

If,  however,  you  want  letters  superficial  in  thought  but 
attractive  in  manner,  etc.,  read  Pliny's. 

Pliny  and  Tacitus  and  Seneca  lived  under  an  empire 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  .       299 

and  in  the  favor  of  the  Prince.  They,  therefore,  were,  as 
the  world  went,  great  men.  But  their  lives  were  of  an 
easy,  epicurean  intellectuality,  guarded  in  their  speech 
and  writings  by  fears  of  the  emperor,  who  nevertheless 
favored  them. 

Pliny  was  happy  in  this. 

But  Tacitus  was  too  deep  and  capacious  a  nature  to  be 
content.  He  was  deeply  learned  in  Eoman  history,  and, 
therefore,  impregnated  with  all  the  swelling  sentiments  of 
Roman  history  and  grandeur. 

But  Pliny  was  a  more  shallow  nature  ;  and,  therefore, 
he  was  happy  in  the  imperial  sunshine. 

I  spoke  of  Bolingbroke's  style.  He  said,  it  didn't 
amount  to  much,  except  in  his  speeches.  His  style  of 
diction,  and  ease,  etc.,  must  have  been  delightful  spoken. 
Bolingbroke  was  deeply  versed  in  history  and  metaphysics, 
especially  moral  .philosophy. 

Those  are  the  fountains  for  eloquence,  and  literature  is 
the  fountain  for  language  ;  that  is,  I  mean,  said  he,  a  true 
eloquence,  a  perennial  eloquence,  not  a  holiday  eloquence. 

September  22. — Conversation  witli  Mr.  Choate  a  day  or 
two  ago. 

I  wanted  to  know  if  he  contemplated  going  on  to  the 
United  States  Supreme  Court  Bench  in  place  of  Curtis  re 
signed.  He  said  lie  had  received  an  intimation  that  he 
could  have  it,  and  had  no  doubt  he  could  have  the  post,  if 
he  desired  it ;  but  that  he  would  not  on  any  account  spend 
a  minute  in  Washington,  absorbed,  as  he  should  have  to 
be,  in  his  evenings  in  labors  and  consultations,  and  in  his 
days  in  court. 

Here  said  he,  I  can  do  just  as  I  please  ;  I  can  earn  in 
three  months  as  much  as  their  whole  salary,  and  I  can 
work,  more  or  less,  as  I  please. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

But  I  should  like  very  much  I  confess  to  revise  the 
ivliole  law  with  a  fine  library  at  command.  (This  legal 
appetite  shows  the  real  vigor  and  aptitude  of  his  mind.) 

I  asked  him  if  he  did  not  begin  to  find  the  vehement 
labors  of  advocacy  less  grateful.  He  said  he  should  like 
to  retire  rather  from  active  practice  to  quiet  office  business 
and  study. 

Campbell's  last  volume  of  the  Chancellors,  which  he  had 
just  been  reading,  he  vehemently  condemned.  Why,  said 
he,  he  writes  like  a  gossip,  not  a  jurist.  He  picks  up  all 
the  exaggerated  stories  of  the  Bar  and  retails  them  as  gos 
pel.  His  style  moves  at  a  sort  of  jog-trot  pace  ;  and  the 
whole  impression  made  upon  you  by  reading  him  is  not  an 
elevated  one ;  you  are  rather  ashamed  than  proud  of  your 
profession. 

But  how  different  Talfourd  !  In  Campbell,  a  lawyer 
of  many  years,  there's  no  strain  of  comment  and  high 
lament  over  his  cotemporaries,  like  that  burst  of  Cicero — 
"  When  I  first  heard  of  the  death  of  Hortensius,"  etc. 

Talfourd's  best  monument  of  his  mind  is  his  essays. 
That  on  "  The  Bar"  is  fine,  where  he  argues  that  the  Bar 
is  not  the  place  for  high  genius;  wliicli  is  true  as  the  Hible, 
though  it's  sad  to  think  so. 

Everett  was  just  as  much  of  a  figure  at  his  first  com 
ing  on  the  stage  as  now. 

I  remarked  upon  the  exceptional  fervor  of  his  last  ora 
tion  before  the  Harvard  Alumni.  Yes,  I  can  well  imagine 
it,  said  Choate,  for  the  subject  and  the  place  touched  all 
the  best  and  most  delightful  enthusiasms  of  his  life.  His 
theme  was  Studies  and  Education  ;  and  he  must  have  re 
called  in  his  own  rnind  the  first  rush  of  his  enthusiasm  for 
letters,  when  he  came  bounding  on  the  stage  to  address 


REMINISCENCES     OF     IIUFUS     C  II  GATE.     301 

Lafayette — an  infinite  future  brilliant  before  him,  and  an 
infinitude  of  hope. 

Every  thing  that  he  loves  was  there ;  in  his  thoughts, 
his  delightful  studies,  his  ideals,  his  romance. 

I  (Choate)  read  Bayne's  books  (Christian  Life,  Essays, 
etc.)  with  eager  pleasure.  A  little  florid  ;  but  he  has 
thoughts  of  great  grasp  and  truth,  and  he  is  eloquent. 
I  read  all  of  him. 

Here  was  this  singular  man,  lying  on  a  sofa ;  as  he  said 
shut  out  of  his  library  by  men  cleaning — and  "  that's 
enough  to  make  any  man  sick" — here,  sick  on  his  sofa, 
and  meditating,  not  upon  the  common  and  cheap  personal 
details  which  crowd  the  minds  of  common  men,  but  re 
volving  such  themes  as  Cicero's  description  of  Hortensius, 
the  dignity  of  his  profession,  the  elevation  of  mind  of  Tal- 
fourd ! 

It  was  a  marked  peculiarity  of  Mr.  Choate's  talking, 
that  while  it  was  not  dogmatic,  it  was  isolated, — as  it  wcro 
soliloquizing.  It  was  all  out  of  his  head.  He  begins  in- 
stanter  to  pour  forth  intellectualities,  and  he  pours  on,  an;l 
on,  ceaselessly. 

October  28th. — Had  an  accidental  talk  with  Mr.  Ohoate 
this  morning  in  his  office.  I  advised  him  to  give  his  old 
lecture,  before  the  M.  L.  A.  this  winter.  He  went  right  on 
(turning  from  his  law  papers  with  which  he  was  busy)  to 
speak  of  Grattan,  of  whom  his  son-in-law  had  just  import 
ed  a  portrait  engraved. 

He  said,  Grattan  was  not  a  speaker  for  a  promiscuous 
audience,  a  stump  speaker.  He  went  over  their  heads  al 
together. 

What  then,  said  I,  made  him  at  all  popular  with  the 
multitude? 

He  replied,  It  was  his  vehemence  and  patriotism. 


302    REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE 

Wouldn't  vehemence  always  do  the  business  for  the 
mob?  said  I. 

No,  if  a  man  spoke  poetry  it  wouldn't,  said  he. 

Tom  Corwin,  of  Ohio,  he  thought  an  orator.  He  would 
fill  the  cup  of  your  eyes  with  tears  in  a  single  sentence. 
He  never  spoke  with  vehemence  enough  to  have  his  voice 
lose  its  melody  and  sweetness. 

Richard  Lalor  Shiel  spoke  somewhat  like  Robert  Ran- 
toul.  Rantoul  was  kept  down  as  a  mere  orator,  by  his 
learning  and  his  truth  of  intellect. 

The  Agricultural  Address  of  Everett  is  a  master-piece 
of  pure  rhetoric  ,  as  well  as  full  of  knowledge  and  scientific 
accuracy.  You  always  see  his  unadulterated  and  singular 
genius  in  whatever  he  does. 

I  broached  to  him  a  project  of  a  book  on  "  Men  of 
Destiny." 

Choate,  upon  the  suggestion  of  this  theme,  went  right 
on  to  present  views  upon  it,  of  profound  and  wide-ranging 
thought,  as  if  he  had  been  studying  and  cramming  on  it. 
I  was  surprised  by  the  sweep  and  the  accuracy  of  his 
thoughts  and  his  learning  ;  but  most  of  all  at  their  ori 
ginality,  and  the  prompt  command  of  them  which  lie 
showed;  turning  off  as  he  did,  suddenly,  from  law  papers 
and  thoughts. 

Why,  said  he,  this  very  morning,  by  twilight,  I  was 
reviving  my  thoughts  of  Cicero  ;  and  I  think  I  am  bet 
ter  able  now  to  write  about  him  than  when  I  lectured 
on  him.  For  I  understand  more  fully  the  relations  he 
sustained  to  the  great  practical  leaders  of  his  day. 

"  Take  care  of  my  interests  at  Rome,"  they  one  and 
all  write  to  him  from  the  provinces  ;  they  leaned  on  him. 

And  then  Mr.  Choate  dashed  oif  at  once  into  a  long 
extempore  talk,  in  which  he  seemed  to  survey  oif-harid  the 


REMINISCENCES     OF      RUFUS     CHOATE.       303 

whole  field  of  ancient  history  and  ancient  heroes,  and  their 
mutual  relations. 

Alexander  the  Great,  he  said,  would  Grecianise  the 
East.  To  that  mysterious  undefinable  East,  all  the 
world's  great  conquerors  have  turned  their  thoughts  and 
dreams.  Napoleon  had  an  idea  of  eastern  sway. 

The  Greek  empire  survived  the  Koman  in  the  Byzan 
tine  civilization,  which  fell  in  1492.  Greek  life  had  more 
vitality  than  the  Eoman.  Grote  (the  historian)  closes  his 
last  volume  with  a  sigh;  as  if,  with  Alexander,  Greece 
ended. 

Mr.  Choate  then  mapped  out  a  long  series  of  books 
and  Keview  articles,  which  ought  to  be  read  in  preparation 
for  a  book  on  Men  of  Destiny. 

He  went  on  then  to  Kome  and  Caesar.  Ctesar  ended 
the  cabals  and  was  a  blessing  to  Kome.  The  Roman 
Unity,  bringing  all  the  world  under  one  scepter,  pros 
trating  all  separate  nationality  of  feeling,  was  eminently 
propitious  for  Christianity. 

It  is  very  important,  he  said,  to  get  the  modern  Ger 
man  thinking  on  classical  subjects,  not  Lempriere,  etc. 

Hannibal  we  know  through  Livy,  as  we  used  to  know 
France  through  England.  Hannibal,  in  his  campaigns, 
represented  the  rest  of  mankind  against  Eome.  Carthage 
was  not  settled  by  descendants  of  Ham,  but  by  those  of 
Shem,  who  ruled  the  whole  Mediterranean  shore.  In 
Hannibal,  as  against  Eome,  the  rest  of  the  ivorld  was 
incarnate. 

Returning  then  to  Greece,  he  said,  Pericles  gave  Art 
to  Greece.  Themistocles  and  his  colleagues  gave  her  her 
historical  existence.  Themistocles  gave  her  her  navy. 

The  Persian  war  was  The  Oriental  versus  The  Modern 
civilization. 


304         REMINISCENCES      OF      RUFUS      CIIOATE. 

Had  Persia  conquered,  Greece  would  never  have  been 
ours  in  history,  and  though  Home  might  have  withstood 
the  eastern  civilization,  neither  Borne  nor  the  world  would 
have  had  Greek  art  and  culture.  So,  Themistocles  was  a 
"Man  of  Destiny." 

1858. 

January. — A  very  interesting  and  important  criminal 
case  was  tried  in  this  month,  in  which  Mr.  Choate  made  a 
highly  effective  argument  for  the  prisoner.  He  afterwards 
talked  over  the  case  with  me. 

Speaking  of  the  cross  examination  by  one  of  the  coun 
sel  in  the  case,  he  said  :  It  is  good  •  but  he  seems  to  me 
too  much  as  if  he  intended  to  go  at  the  witness.  He  has 
a  defiant,  jubilant  air  and  tone,  as  if  he  meant  to  break 
him  down.  Now,  I  (Choate)  think  the  examiner  should 
always  seem  to  be  after  truth.  Never  come  doivn  on  a  wit 
ness,  unless  you  are  satisfied  yourself  that  he  is  lying. 

Webster  never  did  so.  He  trimmed  down  the  loose 
statements  and  exaggerations  of  the  witness,  and  got  his 
matter  down  to  the  very  bone.  But  he  never  exercised 
himself,  in  driving  the  witness  into  little  difficulties  and 
cornering  him  in  a  pettifogging  style. 

The  jury  always  sympathize  with  the  witness  unless 
they  are  convinced  he  is  lying. 

He  gave  a  striking  illustration,  in  this  case,  of  his  chiv- 
alric  sense  of  professional  honor.  A  dispute  arose  between 
his  junior  and  the  counsel  for  the  government ;  fierce,  long, 
and  bitter.  In  replying,  the  attorney  for  the  government 
made  a  distinction  between  the  senior  and  the  junior  coun 
sel,  characterizing  the  former  as  a  gentleman,  etc.  Mr. 
Choate  immediately  arose  and  said,  that  if  it  was  intended 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS   CHOATE.    £05 

thereby  to  imply  his  disapprobation  of  the  course  pursued 
by  his  junior  brother.,  he  must  disclaim  such  a  distinction. 

Speaking  of  this  to  me,  he  said,  I  think  my  associate 
was  wrong,  and  ill-timed  in  his  remarks,  but  I  would  al 
ways  sacrifice  even  my  client  to  my  associate's  feelings  in 
such  a  position  as  that.  To  appreciate  the  professional 
kindness  of  this,  the  reader  must  remember  that  "  the  cli 
ent"  was  Choate's  god. 

Mr.  Choate  said  further,  that  his  only  objection  to  Mr. 
— ,  for  a  judicial  office,  was,  that  once,  in  Court,  he 
let  his  junior  be  attacked  savagely  by  an  older  lawyer,  and 
did  not  defend  him  spiritedly,  right  or  wrong. 

In  another  conversation,  Mr.  Choate  said,  Kead  the 
law  reports — the  cases,  not  treatises  ;  nobody  reads  trea 
tises. 

Kead  Shakspeare.  To  speak  to  a  jury  a  man  wants 
maxims,  aphorisms,  historical  allusions.  Shakspeare  is 
full  of  the  former.  Kead  Euripides  also.  Pinkney  used 
to  study  dictionaries  of  different  phrases  for  the  same  idea. 

A  real,  genuine  love  for  Shakspeare  is  rare  in  America. 
Kead  him  critically  with  Schlegel. 

A  man  gets  copiousness  for  speaking,  not  by  mere  words, 
but  by  fullness  of  thoughts,  knowledges. 

In  this  country  especially,  Law  is  the  true  training  for 
politics — better  than  metaphysics  or  logic. 

No  occupation  is  intrinsically  satisfying  and  delightful 
in  itself,  without  reference  to  the  end  to  be  attained  by  it, 
except  Poesy  and  Painting.  Allston  used  to  say,  that  if 
outside  things  wouldn't  trouble  him,  he  should  be  su 
premely  happy  in  his  studio  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  of  it. 
So,  too,  with  the  truly  great  Poet. 

All  great  lawyers  are  great  wielders  of  facts. 

Cicero's  face  is  sad  and  doubtful.    There  was  good  rea- 


306    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

son  for  it.  He  was  surrounded  by  pagans,  and  he  knew 
they  were  all  wrong.  He  knew  that  far  beyond  all  pagan 
speculation,  there  was  an  ocean  outside  unexplored. 

Bolingbroke  was  the  first  orator  of  England.  So  noble 
a  presence.  His  sentences  have  a  grand  and  majestic  flow. 
His  diction  good,  but  not  superlatively  so  ;  great  variety 
of  manner.  The  union  of  manner  with  matter  is  the  thing. 
The  effect  of  words  is  wonderful.  Even  with  thinkers,  the 
effect  of  thoughts  when  properly  dressed  is  exaggerated. 

Still,  as  a  composer,  I  stick  by  Burke  ;  but  he  was 
tame  and  dull  in  delivery.  Delivery  is  every  thing. 

There  are  many  pages  in  Cicero  which  are  common 
and  cheap  ;  the  thoughts  are  undressed. 

Many  pages  in  Brougham  are  as  good  in  style  as  the 
best  of  the  ancients. 

Canning  had  a  most  choice  and  harmonious  diction. 

The  States  are,  as  it  were,  the  Police  of  the  Union. 

END   OF   CONVERSATIONS. 

I  have  the  record  of  no  other  conversations  which  I 
deem  it  proper  to  publish.  In  the  foregoing,  I  have  care 
fully  eliminated  every  thing  which  I  thought  might  wound 
the  feelings  of  the  living,  or  be  ungrateful  to  the  friends 
of  the  dead. 

In  some  cases,  as  in  regard  to  the  Kepublican  party,  I 
have  put  down  much  of  what  Mr.  Choate  said  to  me,  be 
cause  it  was  in  accordance  with  what  he  said  in  public, 
and  made  no  secret  of. 

Should  anybody  feel  rightfully  aggrieved  by  any  thing 
he  said,  which  is  here  recorded,  no  one  would  be  more  sur 
prised  and  regretful  than  the  author  of  the  volume. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  LETTERS  OF  MR.  CHOATE  TO  THE  AUTHOR. 

A  FEW  extracts  from  the  following  letters  of  Mr.  Choate, 
are  given,  to  illustrate  the  easy,  sportive,  kindly  and  yet 
thoughtful  tone  of  his  mind  in  familiar  epistolary  compo 
sition. 

The  letter  succeeding  contains  Mr.  Choate's  theory  and 
opinion  upon  collegiate  education.  It  was  written  to  a 
common  friend  of  his  and  of  mine,  to  dissuade  me  from 
leaving  Yale  College  in  the  junior  year  ;  a  step  which  was 
contemplated — not,  as  he  supposes  in  the  letter,  from  pe 
cuniary  considerations,  but  only  from  the  natural  impa 
tience  for  active  life  common  to  "  Young  America/' 

BOSTON,  5th  May,  1846. 
DEAR  : 

You  have  expressed  so  much  friendship  for  young  Mr. 
Parker,  that  I  take  the  liberty  to  repeat  to  you  in  a  note 
what  I  once  said  in  your  presence  upon  the  subject  of  his 
leaving  college  before  the  end  of  his  regular  course. 

When  I  was  a  boy  I  recollect  that  a  judicious  and  dear 
friend  said  to  me — himself  an  energetic  professional  man- 
not  a  graduate,  that  a  young  man  had  better  borrow  money 
at  thirty-three  per  cent,  to  supply  himself  with  a  collegiate 
education,  than  not  to  have  it.  The  observation  of  every 
year  since  has  confirmed  the  justice  of  this  remark,  as  in 
deed — such  is  the  progress  of  competition  and  of  mental 


308         REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

culture  in  this  country — the  remark  itself  grows  truer 
every  year.  No  diligence  in  a  profession  ever  can  meet 
the  want  of  that  liberality,  breadth,  comprehension  and 
elegance  of  mind,  tastes  and  aims,  which  it  is  the  specific 
function  of  university  education  to  impart.  One  may 
grow  dexterous,  sharp,  clever  ;  but  he  will  be  an  artisan 
only — narrow,  illiberal,  undeveloped,  subordinate.  The 
exceptions  are  too  rare  to  be  reckoned  on. 

It  is  not,  then,  so  much  the  danger  to  the  steadi 
ness  and  tenacity  of  Mr.  Parker's  character,  resulting 
from  so  sudden  and  great  an  abandonment  of  former 
plans,  though  always  there  is  danger  in  that — that  I 
fear.  It  is  the  loss  of  just  so  many  years  of  the  best 
possible  preparation  for  the  part  of  a  finished  man.  It 
is  the  sacrifice  of  an  entire  life  to  the  convenience  of  a 
few  introductory  months  of  it.  If  you  ever  see  him  now, 
I  assure  you  I  think  you  can  not  better  evince  the  reality 
of  your  regard  for  him  than  by  advising  him — if  there  is 
need  of  it,  which  I  have  never  supposed  was  the  case — 
rather  to  borrow  money,  to  teach  or  to  write,  for  the 
means  of  complete  academical  education — to  submit  to 
whatever  self-denial — itself  highest  of  discipline,  rather 
'  than  fail  of  the  full  and  perfect  fruit  of  this  grand  means  to 
a  true  greatness.  I  know  he  will  thank  you  for  it,  while 
he  lives.  "  Have  olim  (remind  him)  meminisse  juvabit." 

The  little  I  have  seen  of  him  inspires  me  with  interest 
in  his  welfare.  Your  friendship  for  him  and  his  friends  is 
an  additional  reason  why  I  could  almost  venture  to  give 
him  direct  advice. 

But  I  have  thought  it  less  likely  to  be  regarded  as  ob 
trusive,  if  I  said  it  to  you,  whose  kindness  will  excuse 
every  thing.  I  am,  most  truly,  your  friend  and  servant, 

KUFUS  CHOATE. 


REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS     CHOATE.       309 

The  intimation  contained  in  the  last  paragraph  of  this 
letter  above,  exhibits  Mr.  Choate's  characteristic  delicacy 
of  feeling.  He  hesitated  to  write  to  a  youth  for  whom  he 
condescended  to  feel  an  interest,  upon  an  important  step 
in  life,  lest  it  should  seem  obtrusive  ;  but  took  the  trouble 
to  write  to  a  third  party  a  letter  to  be  shown  to  the  boy. 

The  next  letter  is  the  first  of  several  which  I  received 
from  him  on  his  short  visit  to  Europe  in  1850.  I  make  a 
few  characteristic  extracts  from  them. 

OFF  HALIFAX  —  Thursday  noon. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  greet  you  from  this  summer's  sea,  and  give  you  an 
other  and  more  particular  farewell  than  I  had  a  chance 
to  do  before.  I  hope  I  shall  find  you  well,  and  fast  and 
far  risen  to  the  noble  places  of  the  bar  upon  my  return. 


Your  sincere  friend 


K.  CHOATE. 

LIVERPOOL,  July. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  have  just  got  here,  after  a  very  pleasant  passage, 
pleasant  in  spite  of  a  good  deal  of  sea-sickness. 

I  spend  to-day  here,  and  go  to  London  to-morrow.  All 
England  mourns  Sir  Kobert  Peel.  I  had  a  letter  to  him, 
and  feel  a  personal  sadness. 

Liverpool  is  a  larger  but  worse  New  York  —  trade,  trade, 
toujours  —  and  an  immensity  of  that  —  and  nothing  else. 
It  is  English  trade,  however  —  -fair  and  vast. 

v-  #  #  #  -:;:-  -:.'c-  $ 

Accept  my  most  warm  good  wishes. 

Yours  affectionately, 

B.  CHOATE. 


310     REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

LONDON,  July  11    1850. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  have  just  got  here — long  enough  to  admit  the  gen 
eral  vast  vision  of  London — but  with  no  analysis  of  its 
huge  rotundity  into  particulars.  Soon  I  shall  subject  it  to 
more  successive  examination,  after  the  edge  of  appetite  is 
a  little  dulled.  You  will  have  heard  that  Sir  J.  Wilde  is 
the  new  Chancellor,  that  the  A.  G.  (Attorney  General) 
succeeds  him,  and  the  Solicitor  General  Romilly  takes  his 
place.  These  appointments  are  quite  of  course,  it  is  said, 
under  the  settled  practice  of  administration.  In  a  general 
way,  I  must  say,  the  wig  is  fatal  to  the  English  lawyer. 
His  head  is  spoiled  ;  he  is  made  formal,  a  mannerist,  a 
technicologist,  sad  to  behold.  Give  me  thus  far  the  Su 
preme  Court  at  Washington,  for  grace,  dignity,  interest, 
power.  But  I  have  seen  little,  though  I  have  run  into 
several  courts. 

x  *  $  x  *  *  * 

Accept  my  good  wishes  ever  more. 

I  am  most  truly  your  friend, 

E.  CHOATE. 

LONDON. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  am  off  to  the  Continent  to-morrow  or  Monday,  for 
some  three  weeks,  to  anticipate  the  sickly  season,  if  such 
there  is  to  be.  That  over,  I  shall  come  again  to  England, 
Scotland.  I  have  passed  a  delicious  week  here,  crowded 
and  fatiguing,  but  full  of  every  species  of  interest.  I  like 
the  Bar  better,  though  I  have  not  seen  it  at  its  best ;  and 
have  seen  enough  to  discern  that,  with  a  grand  question, 
the  House  of  Commons  is  still  the  most  interesting  body 
of  men  on  earth.  Not  that  I  have  seen  or  heard  a  man  in 


REMINISCENCES    OF      RUFUS     CHOATE.  311 

either  House  or  in  Court,  to  be  named  with  Mr.  Webster, 
or  Clay,  or  Calhoun,  or  a  half  dozen  others.  But  this 
body  is  the  Eider  of  the  World  ;  history  and  position  give 
it  an  interest  to  which  no  accomplishment  or  ability  of  its 
individual  members  entitles  it. 

Thoroughly  business-like  debating,  however,  has  a 
great  charm  anywhere  ;  and  here  not  one  word  is  sacrificed 
to  grace  or  exhibition. 

Mr.  Macaulay  struck  me  as  much  as  any  man  I  ever 
saw  ;  affected  in  manner  as  I  thought,  his  language  is  flu 
ent  and  recherche,  and  his  matter  rich  and  redundant  like 
his  writing. 

But  we  will  talk  all  this  over  at  home. 

$*$$«#« 

Write  me  that  you  are  well,  prosperous  and  contented. 
Most  affectionately  yours,  K.  CHOATE. 

PARIS,  July  24th. 
MY  DEAR  Mr.  PARKER  : 

X  v  #  #  #  »  v 

You  know  all  about  Paris,  or  I  would  testify  also  to 
its  unmatched  interest  and  beauty,  present,  visible  and  tra 
ditionary.  But  as  I  am  in  full  volley  of  visions  just  now, 
and  not  very  well  either,  I  beg  you  to  allow  me  to  say  only 
my  good  wishes  for  you. 

Your  friend,  B.  CHOATE. 

GENEVA,  August  9th. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

Extremum  hunc  mihi  concede  laborem — though  that 
is  not  the  true  use  of  the  lines. 

I  am  thinking  of  home,  but  first  of  Italy. 
Most  affectionately  yours, 

K.  CHOATE. 


312   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

The  following  note  is  thrown  in  merely  to  show  the 
style  of  his  off-hand  every-day  home  correspondence. 

BOSTON,  (1856),  Court  street, 
DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  am  grieved  to  say  that  I  am  so  situated  to-morrow 
that  I  can  not  have  the  pleasure  to  see  you  at  your  house. 
If  it  shall  please  Providence  to  give  me  rest,  on  the  same 
day  of  the  succeeding  week  I  shall  be  yours. 

Most  truly  yours,  E.  CHOATE. 

Saturday  (in  haste). 

The  following  note  was  written  by  Mr.  Choate  to  the 
author  in  consequence  of  a  criticism  in  a  newspaper,  which 
characterized  an  article  by  the  author  in  Putnam's  Maga 
zine  on  Kufus  Choate' s  Eloquence,  as  not  doing  full  justice 
to  him  in  that  regard.  The  article  forms  the  succeeding 
chapter  of  this  work;  and  the  point  most  objected  to  ap 
peared  to  be  that  Mr.  Choate  was  described  as  "  not  a  nat 
ural  orator/'  The  author  considered,  however,  that  the 
general  result  of  the  whole  description  ranked  Mr.  Choate 
much  higher  than  a  mere  natural  orator  ;  and  placed  him 
among  the  orators  of  intellect  and  high  art. 

The  criticism  would  riot  be  especially  deserving  of 
notice,  except  as  impeaching  the  author's  fidelity  in  de 
scribing  his  eminent  friend — a  friend,  however,  for  whom 
he  entertained  an  admiration  which  did  not  lose  all  dis 
crimination  in  its  ardor. 

Upon  reading  the  criticism  alluded  to,  Mr.  Choate  wrote 
the  following  note  to  the  author  : 

FRIDAY,  May  11,  '55. 
DEAR  MR.  PARKER  : 

I  had  hoped  to  see  you  before  this  and  thank  you  foi 
your  Putnam;  «  '         o  *  *  * 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   313 

But  I  have  recovered  slowly  ;  have  not  yet  been  out  but 
twice,  except  to  the  door  ;  and  niy  nerves  are  not  quite 
equal  yet  to  legible  handwriting. 

When  we  meet  I  will  bring  up  all  arrears,  and  mean 
time  I  beg  you  to  be  sure  that  I  wholly  appreciate  the  jus 
tice,  the  friendship,  and  the  independence  of  your  article. 
I  should  have  assured  you  of  this  long  ago,  but  I  have 

been  generally  wholly  unable  to  write  a  legible  word. 
#  x  *  &  x  x 

Accept  my  best  wishes  for  a  happy  summer.  Most 
truly  your  friend, 

KUFUS  CHOATE. 

The  two  compositions  which  now  follow  the  above  let 
ters,  Mr.  Choate  told  me,  at  the  time  of  their  newspaper 
publication,  were  written  by  him.  They  appeared  in  the 
Boston  Daily  Courier  as  editorial  matter.  The  one  upon 
Mr.  Everett  was  suggested  by  his  oration  at  Dorchester 
011  Wednesday,  the  4th  of  July,  1855  ;  and  was  published 
on  Friday,  the  next  day  but  one. 

Mr.  Choate  was  then  still  feeble  from  his  long  sickness, 
but  he  was  upon  the  platform  with  the  orator.  His  feel 
ings  toward  Mr.  Everett  were  especially  warm  at  the  mo 
ment,  in  consequence  of  the  kind  attention  of  visits  and 
talk  which  he  had  constantly  paid  him  during  his  confine 
ment.  In  one  of  the  previous  recorded  conversations,  he 
refers  to  this  assiduous  kindness  and  his  own  almost  affec 
tionate  gratitude. 

The  article  on  Mr.  Webster  was  suggested  by  the  sixth 
occurrence  of  his  birth-day  after  his  decease.  It  breathes 
the  full  fervor  of  his  passionate  idolatry  of  that  great  man. 

It  appeared  in  print  on  the  morning  of  that  anniver 
sary,  Monday,  the  18th  of  January,  1858. 

14 


314          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

MR.     EVERETT     AT     HOME. 

A    DESCEIPTIVE    ARTICLE,    WEITTEN 

BY   EUFUS   CI10ATE. 

The  newspapers  will  have,  before  this  time,  placed  Mr. 
Everett's  admirable  Fourth  of  July  discourse  in  the  hands 
of  the  whole  public  ;  but  one  of  his  audience  may  still  be 
permitted  to  speak  of  the  impression  it  made  on  him  in 
the  actual  delivery.  It  is  little  to  say  that  it  had  brilliant 
success.  Certainly  it  had.  Some  five  or  six  thousand  per 
sons — but,  however,  a  vast  multitude — ladies  and  gen 
tlemen,  children  in  green  chaplets  from  school,  and  old  age 
with  his  stafT  shaking  in  both  his  hands  ;  of  all  varieties 
of  culture  and  of  opinion — by  silence,  by  tears,  by  laugh 
ter,  by  hearty  and  frequent  applause, .  for  more  than  two 
hours  of  not  very  comfortable  weather,  confessed  the  spell 
of  the  spoken  eloquence  of  written  thoughts  and  thoughts 
not  written  :  and  when  he  ended,  sat  still  fixed  to  hear,  as 
if  the  spell  would  not  be  broken. 

It  is  saying  more  to  say,  that  it  deserved  all  its  success. 
The  noble,  affluent  and  beautiful  genius,  and  the  effective 
trained  arid  popular  talent,  all  remain  at  their  best.  The 
same  playfulness,  the  same  elegance,  the  same  memory  of 
his  learning,  the  same  justness  and  exactness  of  thought 
and  image,  the  same  discernment  of  truth,  the  same  fidel 
ity  to  history  and  biography,  the  same  philosophic  grasp 
imd  sweep,  the  same  intense  American  feeling ;  occasion 
ally  an  ascent  to  more  than  his  former  height  of  eloquence, 
pathos  and  poetry — an  impression  altogether  of  more  and 
even  truer  wealth  of  mind.  One  is  glad  to  see  such  powers 
and  such  attainments  bearing  a  charmed  life.  Long  arid 
late  be  the  day  when  the  "  old  bell"  shall  announce  that 
the  charm  is  dissolved,  and  the  life  on  earth  is  quenched. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE.     315 

The  topics  and  method  of  the  discourse,  now  that  it  is 
printed,  we  need  not  dwell  on.  The  treatment  of  the 
whole  subject,  too,  can  be  appreciated  by  those  who  did 
not  hear  him,  only  by  reading  it.  What  struck  us,  among 
other  things,  was  the  affectionate  and  pains-taking  fidelity 
with  which  the  local  history  and  biography  of  Dorchester 
were  displayed — its  periods,  growths,  acts,  and  good  men 
in  church  and  state,  remembered  as  if  it  were  a  duty  of 
justice  and  genealogy  as  well  as  love — and  yet  that  all 
these  narrower  annals  were  so  gracefully  connected  with, 
and  made  to  exemplify  a  history  of  heroic  times  and  re 
nowned  events — athe  foundation  of  a  state" — the  maxims 
and  arts  imperial  by  which  it  lives,  grows,  and  works  out 
its  ends — the  throes  and  glory  of  revolution — effected  by 
the  shedding  of  the  blood  of  man,  and  conducting  to  a  true 
national  life.  In  this  way  Dorchester  became  represent 
ative,  and,  as  it  were,  illustrious — as  a  handful  of  minerals 
may  be  made  to  show  forth  the  history  of  a  world,  and  of 
cycles. 

More  than  once  the  speaker  rose  from  the  plane  of  his 
elegant  and  clear  English,  and  moving  narrative,  and  just 
thought,  to  passages  of  superlative  beauty.  Of  these  were, 
that  which  sketched  the  last  man  of  the  Massachusetts  tribe 
of  Indians  ;  that  which  contrasted  the  loving,  cultivated, 
auxiliar  nature  which  enfolds  us,  with  that  austerer  nature 
which  repelled  the  first  settlers  ;  that  which  imagined  the 
Titan  sleep  of  the  spent  wave  at  Nahant ;  that  which  con 
densed  the  long  wrongs  of  the  colonial  period  into  the  im 
age  of  a  slow  u  night,  swept  away  by  the  first  sharp  vol 
ley  on  Lexington  green  ;"  and,  above  all,  that  which  con 
ceived  the  memories  and  the  anticipations  that  might 
labor  in  the  "  soul  of  Washington,  at  that  decisive  hour, 
as  he  stood  upon  the  heights  of  Dorchester,,  with  the  holy 


316  REMINISCENCES    OF     BUFUS    CROAT  E. 

stars  for  his  camp-fire,  and  the  deep-folding  shadows  of 
night,  looped  by  the  hand  of  God  to  the  four  quarters  of 
the  sky,  for  the  curtains  of  his  tent. 

And  these  all,  in  their  places,  were  appropriate,  spon 
taneous,  and  helpful.  Nunc  erat  his  locus. 

Shall  we  confess  that  there  was  a  certain  trait  pervad 
ing  the  whole  discourse  which  gave  it  an  interest  even  "be 
yond  its  wisdom  and  eloquence  ?  More  than  ever  before, 
in  our  observations  of  his  public  efforts,  his  heart  was  al 
lowed  to  flow  from  his  lips.  It  was  as  when  one  of  a  large 
and  happy  household,  on  a  holiday,  remembers  and  recalls 
to  the  rest  the  time  when  the  oldest  of  them  were  young — 
what  they  used  to  see,  and  what  they  used  to  hear  told — • 
the  speaker  and  the  hearer,  the  while,  sometimes  smiling 
and  sometimes  sad — smiling  often  with  a  tear  in  the  eye. 
Such  he  seemed,  and  those  who  have  only  seen  and  heard 
him  on  some  high  theme  and  day,  and  when  he  might  ap 
pear  to  be  pleading  for  the  Crown  of  Gold,  should  have 
seen  and  heard  him  at  home  to  know  and  feel  how  much 
he  is  made  to  be  loved. 

Mr.  Everett  declares  himself  "retired  from  public  life, 
without  the  expectation  or  the  wish  to  return  to  it,  but 
the  contrary  ;  and  that  few  things  would  better  please  him 
than  to  find  a  quiet  retreat  in  his  native  town,  where  he 
may  pass  the  rest  of  his  humble  career  in  the  serious  stud 
ies  and  tranquil  pursuits  which  befit  the  decline  of  life,  till 
the  same  'old  bell'  shall  announce  that  the  chequered 
scene  is  over,  and  the  weary  is  at  rest."  Scholars  will  re 
call  the  pathetic  expression  of  Cicero.  Nunc  vero,  quo- 
niam,  quae  putavi  esse  preclara,  expertus  sum,  quam  es- 
sent  mania,  cum  omnibus  Musis  rationem  habere  cogito. 
But  this  was  after  his  splendid  Consulship,  and  when  he 
had  no  longer  a  civil  future.  Until  that  has  been  Mr.  Ev- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFIJS     CHOATE.         317 

erett's   whole  experience,  why  should  he  employ  his  lan 
guage  ? 

REFLECTIONS      ON 
THE    BIRTH -DAY    OP    WEBSTER. 

18TH     OF     JAJJTJABY,     1858,     WBITTEN 

BY    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

THIS  eighteenth  day  of  January  is  the  anniversary  of 
the  birth  of  Daniel  Webster.  Let  it  be  celebrated  as  be 
comes  his  memory.  With  composed  and  slow  steps — in 
imagination,  if  not  in  reality — let  us  walk  about  his  grave  ; 
think  pensively  and  filially  and  reverentially  for  some  brief 
space  of  all  which  made  up  that  prodigious  individuality 
and  identity  ; — the  majestic  frame  and  brow — the  deep, 
grand  tone,  stirring  or  melancholy — the  supreme  power — 
the  loving  kindness, — bid  fair  peace  be  to  his  sable  shroud, 
and  so,  Hail  and  Farewell  !  And  let  this  thought  revive 
the  memory  of  duties  which  we  once  all  of  us  leaped  to 
perform  for  him,  when  he  was  living — when  he  stood  in  all 
things  proudly  eminent  on  the  high  place  of  his  power  and 
his  hopes — when  the  shadow  of  his  name  and  presence 
came  between  others  and  the  glittering  and  difficult  prizes 
toward  which  their  eyes  were  straining. 

Sometimes  he  incurred  the  lot  of  all  the  great,  and  was 
traduced  and  misrepresented.  Sometimes  he  was  pursued 
as  all  central  figures  in  great  triumphal  processions  are 
pursued — as  all  glory  is  pursued — by  calumny  ;  as  Demos 
thenes,  the  patriot  statesman  ;  as  Cicero,  the  father  of  his 
country  ;  as  Grotius,  the  creator  of  public  law  ;  as  Som- 
ers,  as  Sidney,  as  Burke,  as  Grattan,  as  Hamilton,  were 
traduced.  Even  when  he  was  newly  dead,  the  tears  and 
praises  of  his  whole  country  did  not  completely  silence  one 
robed  and  reverend  backbiter.  But  to-day,  who  remem 
bers  that  he  was  ever  approached  by  calumny  ?  Who 


318   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

remembers  that  they  ever  questioned  the  exaltation  and 
breadth  of  his  patriotism — the  usefulness  of  his  public  life 
— the  wisdom  of  his  spoken  and  written  counsels — the  su 
premacy  of  his  genius — his  observance,  from  the  day  when 
he  was  old  enough  to  know  what  is  virtue  to  the  last- 
grand  scene,  of  the  precept,  "  Let  all  the  ends  thou  aimst 
at  be  thy  country's,  thy  God's,  and  truth's  ?"  Who  is 
there  that  feels  that  any  duty  of  vindication  of  the  <Jead  is 
left  for  him  ?  No  more  than  you  will  feel  on  the  evening 
of  the  22d  of  February  that  you  are  required  to  clear  the 
awful  greatness  and  white  fame  of  Washington  from  the 
charge  of  the  forged  letters — the  charge  of  monarchism — 
the  charge  of  loving  England  which  he  defeated,  better 
than  America  which  he  saved. 

And  how  every  hour — every  passing  hour — moves  all, 
of  all  creeds  and  parties,  rather  to  mourn  him  and  wish 
him  back  from  his  rest  to  his  labors  !  Who,  looking  to  the 
Capitol — to  Kansas — to  Central  America,  does  not  feel 
that  he  could  lay  his  head  more  calmly  on  his  pillow  at 
night — that  he  would  raise  it  in  the  morning  with  a  more 
trusting  thanksgiving  to  God,  if  he  might  know  once  more 
that  the  old  pilot  was  at  his  post — so  near  the  helm  that 
when  the  steersman's  head  begins  to  reel,  and  the  whitened 
lee-shore  to  throw  its  foam  in  thunder  above  and  over  the 
fore-topmast,  he  could  grasp  that  helm  and  hold  it  with 
the  hand  of  a  master,  until  the  ship  should  clear  the 
promontory  on  which  no  light-house  gleams,  and  rise  and 
fail  in  safety  again  on  the  deep,  open  sea  ! 

Sometimes  it  appears  to  us  that  the  memories  of  Web 
ster  tend  to  group  themselves  into  a  threefold  presentment 
of  his  career  and  character.  We  would  say.  almost,  that 
there  were  three  Websters — three  quite  strongly  marked 
and  successive  periods  of  degrees  and  kinds  of  growth  of  the 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.  319 

one  Webster,  in  our  observation  of  that  achieved  and  ulti 
mate  greatness. 

There  was  first  the  rising  and  established  lawyer  and 
American  advocate  ;  this  was  the  Mr.  Webster  of  the 
time  from  1817  until  he  entered  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States. 

In  the  second,  a  period  from  his  entrance  into  the  Sen 
ate  until  he  took  the  Department  of  State  under  Harrison 
in  1841,  he  had  ascended  and  was  walking  on  the  highest 
places  of  American  public  life.  And  herein  it  is  the  states 
man  ripe,  but  animated  and  vigorous — the  great  orator — 
the  expounder  of  the  Constitution — the  leader  of  the  stormy 
debate,  who  thunders  and  who  rules — the  age 'of  his  power 
— the  age  of  his  triumphs. 

In  the  third,  the  last,  the  grandest,  he  assumes  the  port 
and  wears  the  habit  and  enacts  the  functions  of  an  authori 
tative,  wise,  and  patriotic  counselor  of  State,  verging  on  what 
we  call  old  age — the  virtuous,  venerable  and  honorable  old 
age,  from  whose  experience  the  nation  may  draw,  as  from 
an  oracle,  her  maxims  of  policy — her  arts  of  glory.  These 
were  the  three  Websters  of  our  own  personal  observation  ; 
the  same  in  all,  yet  how  unlike  ;  in  the  first — in  the  sec 
ond  sometimes — "the  sea  in  a  storm  ;"  in  the  third,  "the 
sea  in  a  calm/'  In  all  "  a  great  production  of  nature." 

Of  these  three  aspects  of  this  remarkable  greatness,  we 
know  not  to  which  we  had  rather  turn.  It  is  as  if  one,  on 
a  Christmas  eve,  should  run  over  the  seasons  of  the  closing 
year  and  try  to  resolve  which  he  loved  best,  and  which  he 
had  rather  live  over  ;  the  stirring  life,  the  first  zephyr,  the 
manifold  birth  of  bloom  and  music,  in  earth  and  sky,  of 
spring  ;  the  grander  stillness  of  the  summer  noontide,  the 
passing  off  of  the  tempest  charged  with  thunder,  the  bow 
resting  in  the  cloud  ;  or  the  fruitful  and  bland  autumn, 


320  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

the  nodding  harvest,  the  harvest-home,  the  thanksgiving, 
the  serener  blue,  enlivened  with  golden  light. 

Among  this  series  of  glories  and  beauties  and  joys,  we 
can  not  choose  ;  but  we  may  bless  God  for  them  all. 
Happy  in  all  his  life  !  Happy  in  what  he  won — happy  in 
what  he  failed  to  win  !  Happy  in  the  good  he  did,  the 
evil  he  hindered,  the  example  he  set — seeds  of  union  and 
patriotism  which  his  hands  scattered  ! 

Go,  young  men  of  his  country  !  bend  before  his  tomb  ; 
mourn  there  as  for  a  father  departed.  Feel  there  how  just, 
eloquent,  and  mighty  is  death,  and  how  true  it  is  that  God 
only  is  great  !  But  then  return,  and  find  in  the  volumes 
of  thought,  and  in  the  great  acted  life  of  Webster,  the  ge 
nius,  wisdom,  and  influences  over  which  death  has  no 
power. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

RUFUS  CHOATE  AS  AN  ORATOR. 

THE  following  description  of  Mr.  Choate's  eloquence 
was  originally  written  for  Putnam's  Magazine  in  1855. 

It  excited  some  animadversion  at  the  time  ;  inasmuch 
as  it  discriminated  with  regard  to  the  powers  of  the  great 
advocate,  and  was  not  blindly  eulogistic. 

If  the  reader,  however,  will  look  back  to  the  last  letter, 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  he  will  see  what  was  Mr.  Choate's 
own.  opinion  of  the  correctness  of  the  description. 

The  same  description  was  published  in  1857  as  one  of 
the  series  of  sketches  in  the  author's  "Golden  Age  of 
American  Oratory." 

Subsequent  observation  has  only  confirmed  the  opinion 
there  expressed  of  the  peculiar  character  of  Mr.  Choate' s 
oratory.  I  regard  it  as  entitled  to  take  rank  in  the  highest 
orders  of  intellectual  rather  than  spontaneous  oratory. 

We  wish  to  consider  Mr.  Choate,  now,  solely  as  an  ora 
tor,  and  to  allude  to  any  other  qualities  of  mind  or  body 
which  he  may  possess,  only  as  they  bear  upon  his  oratory. 
We  do  not  consider  Mr.  Choate  a  natural  orator, — a  born 
orator.  We  consider  him  the  first  and  foremost  of  made 
orators.  His  mind  and  his  will  have  formed  the  elements 
and  talents,  which  nature  gave  him,  into  an  orator  of  the 
highest  mark.  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  his  letter  to  his  son, 
continually  told  him  that  any  man  of  reasonable  abilities 
might  make  himself  an  orator.  The  son  tried  his  best,  and 
broke  down  hopelessly  the  very  first  time  he  got  on  his 


322  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

legs  in  the  House  of  Commons.  While,  then,  this  sweep 
ing  proposition  is  not  true  in  its  Avidest  sense,  it  is  un 
doubtedly  true  that  any  man,  possessing  a  certain  class  of 
intellectual  and  bodily  gifts,  may  make  himself  ^  very 
creditable  orator.  And  Mr.  Choate  is  a  magnificent  ex 
ample  of  this  truth.  For  he  is  one  who,  by  effort  and 
specific  mental  training,  has  brought  all  his  intellectual 
beauty  and  wealth  to  the  tip  of  his  tongue.  But  he  is  a 
manufacture,  not  a  creation.  And  yet,  just  as  the  fabrics 
of  art  are  often  far  more  beautiful  and  useful  than  the  raw 
work  of  nature,  so  he,  as  he  stands  before  us — the  manu 
facture  of  the  fine  arts,  is  more  delightful  to  hear,  and  in 
spiring  to  look  upon,  and  far  higher  in  the  scale  of  being, 
than  any  mere  creation  of  pulse  and  passion. 

A  natural  orator  we  think  one,  whose  capital  power  is 
in  his  character  and  passion  ;  and  in  whom  these  qualities 
are  so  plainly  and  spontaneously  developed  that  he  would 
be  successfully  eloquent  with  little  art  and  less  learning. 
These  he  may  add,  but  he  could  be  very  effective  without 
them.  In  the  passion  and  the  character  of  such  men  lurks 
the  magic — their  amazing  will,  their  triumphal  overbear- 
ingness,  their  spontaneous,  irresistible  self-assertion.  Every 
now  and  then  there  comes  along  some  itinerant  preacher, 
or  spiritual  tinker,  or  rescued  dram-drinker,  or  other  sort 
of  person,  who,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  strong,  sturdy 
character,  and  his  equally  strong  animal  passion,  not  set 
forth  in  any  dictionary  words  but  in  common  talk,  lifts 
great  audiences  to  dizzy  heights  of  enthusiasm,  and  stirs 
unwonted  throbbings  in  men's  hearts.  Chatham  and  Pat 
rick  Henry  were  natural  orators  of  superior  order.  And 
Henry  Clay  was  of  the  same  school.  He,  however,  super- 
added  much,  but  he  was  a  native-born  after  all.  When, 
in  his  magnificent  moments,  men  saw  him  agitate  the 


REMINISCENCES     OF    R  U  F  U  S     C  H  0  A  T  E  .       323 

Senate  into  a  fury,  and  then,  as  one  born  to  command, 
aride  on  the  whirlwind  and  direct  the  storm/'  they  felt  in 
their  inmost  soul  that  he  had  nature's  patent  for  his  ora- 
toric  tyranny.  When  Mirabeau  one  day  screamed  into 
the  startled  ear  of  the  French  Constituent  Assembly,  the 
words,  "  If  I  shake  my  terrible  locks,  all  France  trembles," 
he  said  what  required  no  learning  to  say,  but  they  were 
mighty  words,  and  they  shook  the  Assembly. 

We  do  not  think  any  great  natural  orator  could  be  a 
great  lawyer.  His  temperament  must  sweep  him  too  fast 
for  the  severe  and  accurate  research  and  application  which 
law  demands  of  her  votaries.  The  orator,  too,  reasons 
eminently  in  the  concrete,  in  pictures  and  in  deductions 
which  are,  logically  speaking,  gymnastic  jumps,  over 
which  his  hearer  must  go  only  by  the  bridge  of  sym 
pathy,  not  logic.  The  disciple  of  the  black-letter  abhors 
the  concrete  as  nature  does  a  vacuum,  and  revels  in  the 
abstract.  But  the  orator  of  mind  can  combine  both 
these  elements.  He  can  be  a  great  lawyer  or  logician, 
and  an  orator  also.  Cicero,  we  have  always  thought, 
belonged  to  this  set,  and  was  of  course  the  greatest  of 
his  nice.  Mirabeau  had  something  of  both  these  quali 
ties,  and  wonderfully  displayed  them,  when,  at  the  end 
of  a  set  harangue,  most  logically  reasoned  .and  prepared, 
he  saw  the  stormy  house  before  him  still  unsubdued.  He 
had  taken  his  seat,  but  he  rose  again — he  rushed  to  the 
tribune,  and  rolled  forth  instantly  a  tide  of  burning 
periods,  wholly  unpremeditated,  which  went  crashing 
and  tearing  into  the  ears  of  his  adversaries  like  so  many 
hot  shot. 

This  combination  of  diverse  powers  is  of  course  indis 
pensable  to  the  truly  great  advocate,  and  this  Mr.  Choate 
exhibits  in  the  most  thorough  development  of  each.  His 


324   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

main  power  is  by  no  means  in  native  force  of  character ; 
nor  do  we  think  it  lies  chiefly  in  passion.  His  sensibilities 
we  should  judge  to  have  been  by  nature  lively,  and  his 
mind;  grasping  things  with  great  brightness  and  fullness 
of  detail,  and  calling  into  play  with  corresponding  inten 
sity  the  appropriate  accompanying  feelings,  has  thus 
forced  them  into  an  overstrained  activity,  by  constantly 
working  them  into  violent  play.  But  we  very  much 
doubt  if  there  was  any  wild  natural  outgushing  of  ora- 
toric  feeling,  self-created  and  incapable  to  be  kept  in  or 
tamed  down.  He  is  a  great  actor,  an  artist  of  the  first 
rate,  but  an  actor  after  all.  We  rather  think,  from  the 
piles  of  written  sheets  behind  which  he  rises  to  address 
a  jury,  and  which  disappear  one  by  one  as  the  speech 
rolls  on,  that  every  word  of  the  eloquent  and  impassioned 
argument  is  all  there,  cut  and  dried.  To  analyze  his 
power,  then,  we  must  trace  the  threads  of  the  intellectual 
fabric,  warp  and  woof,  and  imagine  it  delivered  with  vehe 
ment  will  to  persuade  and  energetic  fervor  to  hammer  it 
home,  but  deriving  no  other  aid  or  appliance  whatever 
from  delivery  ;  hardly  anything  of  the  imperial  command, 
the  basilisk  eye,  the  untamable  spirit  rushing  forth,  mock 
ing  and  defying  opposition  ;  but  we  must  track  the  curious 
working  of  a  grand  machine — the  intellect  j  patient,  steady, 
pressing,  storming  by  turns — sometimes  bearing  down  op 
position  gradually  and  piece  by  piece,  and  sometimes  knock 
ing  it  in  the  head.  We  heard  Webster  once,  in  a  sentence 
and  a  look,  crush  an  hour's  argument  of  the  curious  work 
man  ;  it  was  most  intellectually  wire-drawn  and  hair-split 
ting,  with  Grecian  sophistry,  and  a  subtlety  the  Leontine 
Gorgias  might  have  envied.  It  was  about  two  car-wheels, 
which  to  common  eyes  looked  as  like  as  two  eggs  ;  but  Mr. 
Choate,  by  a  fine  line  of  argument  between  tweedle-dum 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     325 

and  tweedle-dee,  and  a  discourse  on  "  the  fixation  of 
points"  so  deep  and  fine  as  to  lose  itself  in  obscurity, 
showed  the  jury  there  was  a  heaven-wide  difference  "be 
tween  them.  "  But/'  said  Mr.  Webster,  and  his  great 
eyes  opened  wide  and  black,  as  he  stared  at  the  big  twin 
wheels  before  him,  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  there  they 
are — look  at  'em";  and  as  he  pronounced  this  answer,  in 
tones  of  vast  volume,  the  distorted  wheels  seemed  to 
shrink  back  again  into  their  original  similarity,  and  the 
long  argument  on  the  "  fixation  of  points  "  died  a  natural 
death.  It  was  an  example  of  the  ascendency  of  mere 
character  over  mere  intellectuality  ;  but  so  much  greater, 
nevertheless,  the  intellectuality. 

He  has  not,  then,  any  of  those  remarkably  rare  and 
bold  traits  of  character,  conspicuous  enough  singly,  to 
account  for  his  forensic  supremacy.  When  not  actually 
in  a  fight,  he  is  quiet,  facile,  accommodating,  and  bland. 
You  would  by  no  means  suspect  the  volcanic  energies 
lurking  beneath,  from  any  appearances  on  the  surface. 
In  his  wan  and  worn  and  bloodless  but  benignant  face, 
you  would  see  enough  to  suspect  intellectual  treasures 
stored  up,  and  an  inner  life  of  strange  and  unusual  topics 
and  movement.  He  looks  as  if  he  moved  about  in  his 
own  mysterious  solitude  for  ever,  whether  in  crowds  or 
all  alone ;  like  some  stray  child  of  a  land  bathed  in  sun 
set  beauty,  musing  ever  on  warm  Arabian  skies,  and  the 
burning  stars  and  gorgeous  bloom  of  the  hanging  gardens 
of  his  home.  But  his  mere  oratorio  presence  is  nothing. 
And  therefore  he  never  impresses  an  audience,  especially  a 
professional  one,  with  a  sense  of  his  greatness,  till  he  does 
something  ;  till  he  speaks  or  acts  in  the  legal  drama.  We 
see  no  external  symptom  of  overpowering  native  charac 
ter  ;  no  symptom  of  anything  which  would  make  you 


326     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

think  that  that  man,,  by  his  grand  movement,  by  his 
basilisk  eye,  by  his  uplifted  arm,  might  strike  dumb  op 
position  and  palsy  hate.  And  yet  we  have  seen  him 
when  in  battle,  his  battle — that  of  thoughts  and  words, 
standing  right  over  a  legal  adversay  with  outstretched 
arm,  with  eye  burning  black  with  smothered  fire,  and 
face  white  with  a  deathlike  palor,  his  form  erect,  his 
brow  more  spacious,  and  the  dark  curly  locks  on  his 
temples  fluttering  about  and  waving,  and  uplifting  like 
battle-flags,  to  flaunt  defiance  at  the  foe — and  then  he 
looked  the  oratorio  war-god. 

Why  was  this  ?  It  was  because  at  those  moments  his 
mind,  wherein  his  power  lies,  was  all  kindled  and  crowded 
and  stretching  with  thought,  and  bursting  with  intellectual 
passion.  It  was  the  burning  and  beaming  mind  of  the  man 
which  lit  the  bold  glance  in  his  eye,  and  lifted  and  bright 
ened  his  proud  crest.  Like  all  the  first  class  orators,  he  has 
in  the  recesses  of  his  nature  the  Titan  forge  and  the  Cyclo 
pean  fires  for  the  manufacture  of  great  effects  ;  but  the 
flames  to  enkindle  them  come  from  his  intellect,  not  from 
his  soul.  His  combustions  catch  fire  from  his  brain,  not 
from  his  blood. 

It  is  not  so  with  the  born  orator.  When  he  rises  to 
speak,  his  sensibilities,  bodily  and  mental,  stimulate  his 
mind,  not  his  mind  the  sensibilities  ;  his  mind  does  not 
start  his  blood,  his  blood  sets  his  mind  going. 

We  must  explore,  then,  the  sources  of  Mr.  Choate's 
achievement  chiefly  in  his  mind.  And  his  intellectual  en 
ginery  may  be  all  generally  summed  up  and  grouped  in  a 
few  capital  heads,  thus. 

At  the  basis  of  all  lies  undoubtedly  a  strong,  vigorous, 
masculine  understanding.  He  has  at  once  an  observing 
and  an  organizing  mind  ;  an  eye  hawklike  for  the  percep- 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   327 

tion  of  particulars,  and  a  logical  faculty  sturdy  and  severe 
to  generalize  and  group  them.  As  Mr.  Webster  said,  in  his 
eulogy  of  Jeremiah  Mason,  "  He  grasps  his  point  and  holds 
it."  Superficial  observers,  remarking  the  luxuriance  of  his 
rnetaphoric  style  and  the  poetical  abandonment  of  his  pas 
sion,  would  be  apt  to  conclude  that  the  gay  structure  of  his 
arguments  was  flimsy  ;  but  let  them  strike  their  heads 
against  it  and  they  would  see.  For  in  his  wildest  arid  most 
flaming  outbreak  of  even  an  occasional  oration,  seeming 
almost  a  mere  jubilate  of  conscious  enthusiasm,  there  is  a 
massive  well-set  framework  and  firm  foundation.  That 
mastery  of  the  law,  in  its  learning  and  its  severest  appli 
cation,  with  which  lie  daily  conquers  in  the  courts,  that 
entire  memory  and  command  of  the  thousand  facts  and 
details  of  a  complicated  case  which  every  argument  evinces, 
would  alone  show  how  firm  and  solid  was  the  texture  of  his 
mind.  More  than  once  has  a  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court 
remarked  that  that  tribunal  listened  to  no  man  with  more 
respect  on  naked  abstract  legal  points ;  and  we  ourselves 
have  heard  one  of  the  oldest,  dryest,  keenest,  ablest  and 
most  fancy-withered  lawyers  at  our  bar  say  that,  on  the 
closest  question  of  contingent  remainders  or  executory  de 
vises,  he  would  trust  Rufus  Choate's  legal  learning  and 
logic  as  soon  as  any  leader's  in  the  law. 

But  we  are  discussing  him  as  an  orator,  not  as  a  lawyer, 
and  we  cite  it  only  as  a  proof  of  the  strength  of  his  mind, 
which  forms  a  capital  element  of  his  oratory.  In  truth,  he 
has  a  gladiatorial  intellect,  in  strength  as  well  as  combat- 
iveness. 

Intimately  blended  with  this  power,  and  giving  light 
and  vivacity  to  all  its  operations,  is  that  regal  faculty 
which  in  him  is  beyond  all  measure  splendid — his  imagin 
ation  and  fancy  ;  and  this  flames  ever  on  the  iron  chain  of 


OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

liis  logic,  as  the  electric  spark  flashes  upon  the  iron  road  of 
its  telegraphic  course.  He  can  present  his  thought  as  bald 
and  bare  as  bleaching  bones,  but  he  prefers  to  give  it  forth, 
as  it  first  comes  to  him,  embodied  in  beauty  and  robed  in 
splendor.  You  can  hardly  ever  listen  to  him  ten  minutes 
anywhere  without  being  waked  up  by  some  surprising  im 
aginative  analogy  or  fanciful  illustration.  In  court,  or  with 
an  audience,  this  warm  imagery  appears,  equally  when  in 
an  insurance  case  he  apostrophizes  "  the  spirit  which  leads 
the  philanthropy  of  two  hemispheres  to  the  icy  grave  of 
Sir  John  Franklin,"  or  when  in  Faneuil  Hall  he  conjures 
up  before  the  eyes  of  a  wildly  applauding  political  assem 
bly  a  vision  beauteous  of  uthe  dark-eyed  girls  of  Mexico 
wailing  to  the  light  guitar.  Ah,  woe  is  me,  Alhama,  for 
a  thousand  years  !'  and  by  the  vividness  of  his  conception 
and  the  corresponding  intensity  of  his  delivery,  causing  the 
people  almost  to  hear  with  the  mortal  ear  the  long  lament 
as  of  the  daughters  of  Judca  over  a  ruined  land — sounds  the 
most  melancholy  of  all  that  rise  from  the  sorrow-stricken 
fields  of  earth. 

But  reason  and  fancy  would  do  the  orator  no  good 
without  an  emotional  and  kindling  temperament ;  a  phys 
ical  warmth,  as  well  as  a  moral  and  emotional  suscepti 
bility.  Poets  often  have  the  latter,  but  no  physical  fire 
and  ardor ;  orators  often  have  the  former,  but  no  fanciful 
brightness.  He  bas~~both.  But,  as  we  intimated  in  the 
outset,  his  animal  sensibility  is  subordinate  and  inferior  to 
his  intellectual  sensibility.  And  in  him  this  is  as  keen  as 
it  was  in  an  Ionian  Greek.  No  child  of  Athens,  standing 
in  the  shadow  of  the  moonlighted  Parthenon,  ever  felt  his 
nostrils  quiver  or  his  heart  expand  with  more  genuine  in 
tellectual  sentimentality,  than  he  is  conscious  of  when  at 
the  bidding  of  his  quickening  fancy  there  rises  full  on  the 


mirror  of  his  mind  the  radiant  architecture  of  some  great 
argument. 

And  in  these  capital  characteristics  we  have  in  a  large 
view  the  leading  elements  of  his  oratory  ;  the  solidity  of 
understanding  which  fixes  the  tough  and  close-clamped 
framework  of  his  creations  ;  the  imagination  which  clothes 
and  paints  them  with  the  roses  and  the  garlands  and  the 
Tyrian  colors  of  an  inexhaustible  fancy,  and  breathes  over 
them  the  beauty  not  born  of  earth  ;  and  the  sensibility 
which  stirs  our  life-blood  like  the  mountain  bugle,  or 
touches  the  sealed  fountain  of  our  tears  like  a  tone  from 
the  spirit  land. 

And  hence  springs  his  most  remarkable  and  unparalleled 
ability  to  take  any  part  of  his  subject,  whether  a  theme  or 
evidence  given  on  the  witness  stand,  and  force  it  altogether 
out  of  its  natural  relations,  by  conceiving  it  with  unnatural 
intenseness  in  his  own  mind,  and  then,  by  his  mingled  im 
agination  and  sensibility  and  wealth  of  language  investing 
it  with  a  character  not  its  own — rainbow  hues  or  sulphure 
ous  fires  as  he  chooses — and  commending  it  thus  at  will  to 
the  benediction  or  the  malediction  of  men.  How  often 
have  we  seen  the  opposite  counsel  in  a  case  utterly  puzzled 
and  baffled  by  the  strange  way  in  which  Choate  seemed  to 
be  putting  the  facts  to  the  jury  ;  and  interrupting  him 
again  and  again  in  vain,  met  and  foiled  every  time  by  the 
reply,  "  Do  I  misstate  the  facts  ?  I'm  only  arguing  upon 
them."  And  the  discomforted  interrupter  would  sink  back 
in  despair,  utterly  unable  to  detect  precisely  where  was  the 
error,  yet  feeling  sure  that  he  heard  no  such  evidence.  The 
fact  was,  Choate  had  the  basis  fact  all  right — he  was  only 
painting  and  inflaming  it  with  his  own  colors  ;  but  the 
paints  on  his  palette  were  to  his  adversary's  as  the  sky  of 
Italy  to  the  sky  of  Sweden  ;  and  they  were  brought  out 


330          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

on  his  canvas  in  even  more  perplexing  and  bewildering 
hue  by  the  impassioned  heat  of  his  unbridled  sensibility. 

Again  and  again  have  we  seen  this  imagmajii^^dncep- 
tion,  and  distorting  description,  and  passionate  expression, 
giving  birth  to  an  inspiring  contagious  and  irresistible  en 
thusiasm,  carrying  him  right  over  weak  spots  in  the  argu 
ment  of  the  case,  as  the  skater  swift  as  lightning  swims  in 
safety  the  cracking  and  bending  ice.  Scarlet,  Lord  Abin- 
ger  used  to  wheedle  juries  across  the  weak  places,  but 
Choate  rarely  does  that — he  prefers  to  rush  them  right 
over. 

Brilliantly  was  this  capacity  exhibited  in  the  case  of 
Captain  Martin,  indicted  in  the  United  States  District 
Court  for  casting  away  his  vessel  off  San  Domingo,  with 
the  intent  to  procure  the  insurance.  The  government  had 
been  at  the  cost  of  sending  a  special  agent  to  Hayti  for 
evidence,  and  he  had  brought  back  with  him  a  black  man 
from  Solouque's  empire,  called  by  the  swelling  apellation  of 
"  Duke  Pino."  All  the  other  evidence  was  manageable, 
but  his  testimony  was  very  ugly.  He  swore  positively, 
through  an  interpreter,  that  he  dived  down  under  water 
and  examined  the  logwood  cargo  of  the  ship  and  her  star 
board  bow,  and  in  the  latter  he  found  a  great  smooth  hole, 
not  rough  enough  for  a  rock  to  have  made,  and  which  evi 
dently  was  the  death-wound  of  the  ship.  All  the  other 
parts  of  the  proof  of  the  government  might  be  got  over  ; 
some  of  them  indeed  were  somewhat  favorable  ;  but  that 
awful  hole  threatened  to  swallow  up  case,  captain,  advocate 
and  all.  All  the  rest  he  managed  adroitly  and  aptly  ;  but 
when  on  the  second  day  of  his  argument  to  the  jury  he 
came  to  that  part,  he  didn't  blink  it  at  all  ;  he  "  rose  right 
at  the  wall."  He  told  the  jury  in  set  terms,  they  need  not 
think  he  was  afraid  of  that  dark  Duke,  butting  his  black 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   331 

head  among  the  logwood  fathoms  deep  under  water  ;  and 
then  all  at  once  he  opened  his  whole  armament,  in  such  a 
double  broadside  of  eloquence  and  fiction  and  ridicule,  that 
lie  riddled  poor  Duke  Pino  himself  into  a  perfect  honey 
comb.  And  then,  taking  advantage  of  a  felicitous  circum 
stance  in  the  captain's  conduct — to  wit,  that  he  did  not  fly 
when  first  accused — he  concluded  with  a  singularly  noble, 
simple  and  scriptural  burst,  which  came  in  like  a  grand 
trumpet  choral,  to  crown  his  lyrical  oration  :  "  Gentlemen 
of  the  jury,  the  accused  man  paused,  he  did  not  fly — for  he 
turned  his  eyes  upward,  and  he  was  thinking  of  the  sub 
lime  promise,  i  When  thou  goest  through  the  fire,  thou 
shalt  not  be  burned,  and  through  the  deep  waters,  they 
shall  not  overflow  thec.'  r'  And,  saying  these  words,  the 
great  advocate  sank  into  his  seat.  The  jury  acquitted  the 
captain,  and  the  expenses  of  the  expedition  of  the  Baronet 
Pino  to  America  were  charged  by  the  government,  we 
presume,  to  "  profit  and  loss/'  as  a  pleasure  excursion  to 
Boston  of  the  ducal  diver. 

Indeed,  such  and  so  inspiring  is  his  enthusiasm  and 
fancy,  that  graver  minds  than  juries  surrender  to  its  fasci 
nations,  and  more  than  once  the  granite  nature  of  Webster 
acknowledged  its  sway.  We  remember  especially  on  one 
occasion,  sitting  behind  him  on  the  little  seats  where  the 
American  Bar  is  represented  before  the  judgment-seat  of 
last  resort  in  America,  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States,  and  hearing  him  turn  to  the  editor  of  the  Intelli 
gencer,  who  sat  next  him,  with  an  involuntary  exclamation, 
as  some  swelling  climax  of  Choate's  eloquence  pealed  upon 
his  ear,  "  Isn't  that  fine  !  isn't  that  beautiful  !"  And 
again,  at  a  dinner  on  the  next  day,  we  had  a  singular  pride 
as  a  fellow- citizen,  and  an  humble  admirer  of  the  subject 
of  the  laudation,  in  hearing  the  same  great  oracle  break 


332      REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS    CHOATE. 

out  with  a  sort  of  Johnsonian  weight  of  manner,  in  answer 
to  a  somewhat  depreciating  criticism  upon  Choate  by  a 
noted  New  York  lawyer,  "  Sir,  let  me  tell  you  Mr.  Choate 
is  a  wonderful  man — he  is  a  marvel."  Upon  his  death-bed, 
lie  told  Mr.  Peter  Harvey  of  Boston,  that  Choate  was  the 
most  brilliant  man  in  America. 

In  estimating  the  parts  of  the  machinery  which  pro 
duces  his  oratorio  fabrics,  however,  we  should  hardly  have 
a  just  view  if  we  confined  the  consideration  to  the  chief 
elements  only.  There  are  many  subordinate  instrument 
alities  evoked,  some  of  them  spontaneous,  and  others  the 
result  of  great  industry  specifically  applied.  The  trunk 
of  an  elephant  is  the  instrument  by  which  all  his  powers 
are  chiefly  made  useful,  but  the  fine  prolongation  on  the 
end  of  it,  by  which  he  can  pick  up  a  needle,  is  as  important 
as  the  main  body  of  it,  by  which  he  can  fell  an  oak  tree. 

To  the  solidity  of  understanding,  the  picture-like  beauty 
of  imagination,  and  the  ardent,  heart- warming  glow  of  sen 
sibility,  all  of  which  first  catch  our  eye  in  his  performances, 
is  to  be  added  that  which  comes  to  Mr.  Choate  from  an 
unflagging  studiousness,  and  a  scholarly  and  acquisitive 
taste  ;  namely,  a  wonderful  wealth  of  words,  beggaring  all 
description  for  copiousness,  variety,  novelty  and  effect^ 
Literary  allusions,  sparkling  sentences,  and  words  freighted 
with  poetic  associations,  are  so  stored  in  his  memory,  ap 
parently,  that  he  can  dress  his  thought  as  he  pleases,  plain 
or  in  gay  rhetorical  attire,  in  kitchen  garments  or  in  corona 
tion  robes.  And  this  vast  command  of  language  is  of  im 
mense  importance  to  him  in  many  ways  ;  for  first  it  rolls 
forth  in  such  an  unhesitating  and  unbroken  current,  that 
the  vehement  flow  and  rush  of  the  speaker's  feeling  and 
passion  are  greatly  encouraged  and  helped  by  it.  A  vehe 
ment,  headlong  style  of  thought  must  have  a  wider  and 


REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE.          333 

more  unencumbered  channel  for  its  course  than  a  more 
placid  but  less  moving  stream.  "  Give  me/'  said  the 
younger  Pliny,  in  his  Epistles,  "  among  all  the  Roman 
speakers,  the  copious  and  the  abundant  orator — he  alone 
can  command  me,  and  bear  me  as  he  will."  And  this  is 
as  true  now  in  America  as  it  was  then  in  Rome.  Others 
may  sometimes  equally  delight,  but  it  is  the  rapid,  sweep 
ing,  vehement  utterance  that  most  of  all  takes  captive. 
And  this  command  of  words,  too,  enables  him  to  express 
his  precise  thought,  in  its  minutest  shade  of  meaning. 
Very  few  men  in  the  world  can  say  exactly  what  they 
mean  ;  they  can  approach  it,  and  go  about  it  and  about  it, 
but  never  hit  it,  ;  but  he,  whenever  he  chooses  to  be  close 
and  precise,  can  not  only  reach  the  target,  but  hit  the 
"  bull's  eye"  every  time  he  tries. 

But  more  even  to  the  orator  than  freedom  of  feeling 
or  precision  of  expression  is  the  ability,  which  a  copious 
richness  of  diction  affords,  to  color,  and  gild,  and  lift  up 
his  idea  or  sentiment,  by  words  which  are  in  themselves 
metaphors  and  pictures,  and  which  can  not  be  denied  to 
be  descriptive  of  the  theme,  but  yet  color  and  heighten 
prodigiously  its  impression  on  the  mind.  For  the  style  of 
expression  is  not  simply  the  dress  of  the  thought, — it  is 
the  embodiment,  the  incarnation  of  the  thought  ;  as  the 
discriminating  Frenchman  said,  "  the  style  is  the  man,"  so 
also  it  is  true  that  the  style  is  the  thought :  you  can't  sep 
arate  them  any  more  than  you  can  cut  asunder  the  beating 
of  the  orator's  heart  from  the  sparkle  of  his  eye  and  the 
flushing  of  his  cheek.  And  so  complete  is  this  identifica 
tion,  that  the  common  thought  married  to  immortal  words, 
is  apotheosized  itself.  A  late  critic  on  Demosthenes  has 
suggested  justly,  that  the  reason  why  the  prince  of  orators 
seems  tame  to  us,  as  we  read  him,  is,  that  we  can  not  take 


334    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

in  fully  and  feel  the  full  association  and  metaphoric  image 
which  each  word  conveyed  to  every  Athenian  whose  ears 
tingled  as  he  stood  in  the  agora  before  him.  To  do  that 
would  demand  an  Athenian  life  and  conversation. 

Warriors  on  the  eve  of  the  fight  have  spoken  to  the 
soldiery  in  words  which  have  been  in  truth  half-battles, 
raid  always  for  the  orator  the  winged  words  of  rhetoric 
will  go  far  to  win  the  day.  The  extraordinary  affluence 
of  diction  which  Mr.  Choate  possesses  is  drawn  from  all 
the  sources  of  literature  and  men's  talk,  common  and  un 
common  ;  from  the  Bible  and  the  newspapers,  from  some 
Homeric  stanza,  and  from  the  chat  of  our  streets  ;  from 
books,  the  people  love,  and  books  they  never  heard  of ; 
simple  words,  long-legged  words,  all  mixed  up  and  stuck 
together  like  a  bizarre  mosaic,  showing  forth  some  splen 
did  story,  in  all  its  infinite  variety  of  hues. 

Although  oratory  is  one  of  the  fine  arts,  and  the  prov 
ince  of  a  fine  art  is  to  yield  pleasure  as  an  end,  yet  it  is  also 
a  useful  art.  and  therefore  the  beauty  and  vigor  of  language 
is  only  admirable  in  the  orator  when  it  conduces  to  the 
deeper  and  more  intense  impression  of  the  thought  upon 
the  mind  ;  and  judged  by  this  standard,  without  reference 
to  any  arbitrary  canons  of  taste,  we  think  Mr.  Choate's 
itforcZ-ammunition  is  a  most  •  legitimate,  and  useful;  and 
telling  charge  for  his  oratorio  artillery. 

They  are  not  at  all^me  words  exclusively ;  there  is  nothing 
.  of  kid-glove  dilettantism  in  his  vocabulary  ;  he  is  not,  like 
some  speakers  who  scorn  to  deliver  themselves  in  any  but 
a  sort  of  rose-colored  rhetoric* — -afraid  to  take  right  hold  of 
the  huge  paw  of  the  Democracy  by  language  coarse,  and 
homely,  and  inelegant,  but  full  of  strength,  and  grit,  and 
sense.  Indeed,  often  you  will  see  and  hear  in  his  jury  ap 
peals  a  classic  gem  of  thought  of  rarest  ray,  set  side  by  side 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.          335 

with  phrases  smacking  strongly  of  the  very  slang  of  the 
streets.  But  the  talk  of  the  day,  though  it  may  not  excite 
men's  wonder,  comes  home  to  their  bosoms  and  busines;  and 
through  its  road  often  the  highest  eloquence  may  move,  as 
two  thousand  years  ago  the  sage  Socrates  talked  in  the 
street  before  the  Pnyx  in  Athens,  to  the  common  people 
who  passed  by  ;  illustrating  by  the  commonest  examples 
the  profoundest  philosophy. 

And  in  all  Mr.  Choate's  language,  whether  common  or 
uncommon,  there  is  point,  object,  and  meaning.  No  man 
can  call  his  wild  flights  of  metaphor  an  imagery — forcible- 
feeble,  or  rank  his  composition  as  belonging  to  the  "  spread 
eagle"  school  •'  for  in  his  wildest  and  most  far-fetched  ex 
cursion  for  analogies,  his  flight  soars  from  such  a  massive 
ground- work,  that  though  the  adversary  smile,  he  must 
also  shake  ;  just  as  the  gala  decorations  of  the  heavy  sides 
of  a  three-decker  mantel  in  bright  bunting  her  grim  bat 
teries  ;  but  through  flowers  and  through  ribbons  we  see  all 
the  time  those  terrible  death-dealing,  powder-stained  muz 
zles  still  there. 

There  is  never  any  calmness  or  simplicity  in  his  general 
composition.  It  is  marked  throughout  by  a  character  of 
apparently  rather  morbid  mental  exaggeration.  We  never 
see  him,  .like  the  statesman,  simply  proposing  and  grandly 
inveighing  or  insisting  ;  but  always,  like  the  orator-advo 
cate,  idealizing  every  thing,  and  forcing  it  out  of  all  its 
natural  and  just  relations.  His  disposition  produces  some 
extraordinary  neighborhoods  among  thoughts.  Things  that 
never  before  dared  to  lift  their  audacious  heads  higher 
than  the  sand,  he  sets  at  once  side  by  side  with  the  stars  ; 
and  if,  notwithstanding  his  interfusing  art,  they  seem  as 
uncomfortable  and "  ill-matched  as  some  marriage  unions 
of  more  corporeal  creations,  he  breathes  over  them  one 


336    REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

burst  of  eloquent  passion,  and  they  settle  down  cosily  to 
gether. 

Over  all  his  work  a  serio-comic  cast  is  perceptible. 
His  analogies  and  figures  are  sometimes  designed  to  pro 
duce  mirth,  and  then  he  always  "  brings  down  the  house  ;" 
but  even  when  not  designed,  there  is  often  such  a  funny 
little  vein  of  thought,  dashed  into  some  solemn  and  high- 
keyed  conception,  like  a  woof  of  woolen  shot  with  silver  or 
the  black  marble  of  Egypt  veined  with  the  yellow  gold, 
that  it  provokes  a  quiet  smile,  as  if  some  stage  tragedy- 
king  should  crack  a  joke,  or  the  sepulchral  Hamlet  should 
give  one  rib-shaking  laugh.  In  a  marine  criminal  case  he 
had  been  making  a  lofty  flourish,  ushering  in  upon  the 
stage  of  his  thoughts  like  the  motley  cavalcades  of  a  circus 
in  one  grand  entree,  Captain  Parry  and  the  English  crown, 
eternal  snows  and  the  royal  enterprise  of  a  new  empire, 
and  Heaven  knows  what  else  !  in  the  most  singular  but 
striking  juxtaposition,  his  whole  manner  dignified,  fervent, 
and  lofty  in  the  extreme, — when  suddenly  he  gave  the 
oddest,  wildest  counter-stroke  of  sentiment  we  ever  heard, 
even  from  him,  by  turning  to  a  leading  witness  who  had 
testified  against  him,  and  who  had  said  in  cross-examina 
tion  that  he  got  some  of  his  opinions  from  the  policemen 
of  the  whaling  city  of  New  Bedford, — turning  right  to 
him,  he  brought  down  roars  of  laughter  on  his  devoted 
head,  and  utterly  demolished  the  weight  of  his  evidence  by 
shouting  out  the  sarcastic  and  funny  inquiry  :  "  Pray, 
what  opinions  do  the  policemen  of  New  Bedford  hold  on 
these  things  ?  I  wonder  what  the  policemen  of  New  Bed 
ford  think  of  the  great,  newly-discovered,  tranquil  sea,  en 
circling  the  North  Pole  !" 

But,  while  his  eloquence  of  composition  can  not  be 
called  distinctively  self-assured  and  statesmanlike,  it  is  yet 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          337 

elevated  and  inspiring,  from  its  appeals  to  the  whole  range 
of  the  grander  and  larger  virtues ;  to  magnanimity  and 
loftiness  of  soul.  Often  he  will  draw  some  heart-comfort 
ing  scene,  which  opens  to  us  the  paradise  of  youthful 
dreams  where  every  noble  and  gallant  virtue  combines  to 
set  its  seal,  for  the  sole  purpose,  apparently,  of  raising  the 
hearer's  mind  to  the  level  of  the  appeal  he  is  about  to 
make  to  him  in  the  name  of  virtue  and  honor  itself.  "  I 
appeal  to  the  manliness  of  a  Boston  jury/7  he  often  ex 
claims,  and  rarely  in  vain  ;  "  I  appeal  to  the  manhood  of 
a  Massachusetts  judge/'  he  sometimes  exclaims,  with  not 
universally  the  same  propitious  result. 

The  whole  movement  and  play  of  his  mind  in  oratory 
seems  large  and  free  ;  and  the  broadest  generalizations  of 
abstract  truth  fall  from  his  lips  ;  maxims  of  the  widest 
application,  truths  eternal  and  infinite, — maxims  and 
aphorisms  which  Edmund  Burke  might  have  uttered  in 
his  hour  of  most  philosophical  frenzy.  From  these  uni 
versal  principles  and  the  higher  order  of  intellectual  con 
siderations,  the  nobilities  of  mind,  he  will  always  reason 
whenever  the  subject  tolerates  such  treatment.  But 
though  his  style  of  rhetoric  is  as  opulent  in  thought  as  it 
is  oriental  in  diction,  it  does  not  seem  so  rich  in  thought 
and  observation  as  it  really  is,  from  the  very  splendor  of 
the  words, — it  has  wisdom  without  parade  ;  the  parade  is 
wholly  in  the  dress  of  the  ideas. 

But,  after  all,  we  feel  that  the  most  general  traits  of 
his  oratorio  compositions  are  to  be  summed  up  and  set 
down  as  an  indescribable  mixture  of  truth  and  .reason,  ex 
travagance  and  intensity,  beauty  and  pathos.  Nothing  is 
too  wild,  or  far-fetched,  or  intense  for  him  to  utter  in  his 
oratorical  raptures.  Similes  and  arguments,  for  which 
another  man  would  almost  be  hooted  out  of  court,  he  can 

15 


338    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

say  with  profound  gravity  and  prodigious  effect.  And 
-herein,  as  much  as  anywhere,  he  reveals  his  real,  essential 
power ;  for  the  force  of  his  will  and  his  intellectual  passion 
is  such,  that  he  compels  us  in  spite  of  ourselves  to  admire 
and  sympathize  with  what  in  another  man's  mouth  we 
might  entirely  condemn  ;  for  when  he  seems  utterly  earned 
away  himself  by  the  rush  and  storm  and  glitter  of  passions 
and  of  pictures  sweeping  over  his  mind,  we  go  with  him  in 
spite  of  ourselves  ;  then,  no  matter  how  trivial  the  subject 
or  how  humble  the  place,  he  abandons  himself  wholly  to 
the  mood,  and  so  wonderful  is  his  power  of  compelling 
sympathy,  that  he  will  at  once  lift  that  lowly  theme  into 
aerial  proportions,  cover  it  all  over  with  the  banners  of 
beauty,  and  for  a  moment  seem  to  make  it  fit  for  the  con 
templation  of  a  universe, — and  few  will  laugh,  and  all  will 
wonder,  and  many  tremble  with  delight.  Once,  in  a  cheap 
case,  in  a  criminal  court,  when  he  wished  to  tell  the  jury 
that  the  circumstance  that  the  defendant's  assignee  in 
insolvency  paid  but  a  small  dividend,  although  the  defend 
ant  had  been  a  very  wealthy  man,  was  no  evidence  of  fraud 
on  his  part  (because  an  estate  turned  suddenly  into  cash, 
by  an  assignee  indifferent  to  the  interest  of  the  owner, 
would  waste  and  net  nothing  like  its  value),  he  contrived 
to  liken  the  property  melting  away  under  that  assignee's 
management,  to  the  scattering  of  a  magnificent  mirage 
under  the  noon-day  heat ;  and  rising  higher  and  higher  in 
his  mood,  as  he  saw  the  twelve  pair  of  eyes  before  him 
stretching  wide,  we  well  remember  with  what  loud  and 
pealing  accents  he  swept  in  glory  through  the  climax  of 
his  imagery  and  his  argument,  by  this  astonishing  com 
parison  of  the  dry-goods  man's  bankruptcy  :  "So  have  I 
heard  that  the  vast  possessions  of  Alexander  the  conqueror 


REMINISCENCES    OF    KUFUS    CHOATE.          339 

crumbled  away  in  dying  dynasties,  in  the  unequal  hands 
of  his  weak  heirs." 

And  again,  there  are  passages  scattered  all  through  his 
productions,  of  the  most  genuine  and  simple  poetry  and 
pathos  ;  as  unforced  and  natural  as  the  lines  of  the  mar 
velous  child,  who  "wrote  in  numbers,  for  the  numbers 
came  ;"  and  blended  with  them  there  are  other  passages 
of  fiery  but  pure  poetry,  conceptions  which  may  challenge 
comparison  with  the  most  emphatic  of  even  the  naming 
cantos  distilled  from  the  darkest  midnight  and  the  best 
gin  by  the  fevered  brain  of  Byron.  All  the  poetry  there  is 
in  anything,  his  genius  will  detect  and  grasp  as  surely  as 
the  divining-rod  points  to  the  golden  stratum  beneath  the 
soil ;  for  in  the  education  of  his  faculties  he  has  been 
always  loyal  to  the  Muses,  as  well  as  faithful  to  the  aus- 
terer  claims  of  his  acknowledged  sovereign,  the  sage 
Themis ;  and  he  may  well  be  called  the  poet  laureate  of 
oratory.  Nothing  is  too  far  off  from  fancy  for  him  to  de 
tect  its  remote  imaginative  connections  of  thought  •  Cow- 
per's  Task  poem  on  a  Sofa  is  nothing  to  one  of  Choate's 
Task  arguments  on  a  musty  old  deed.  Indeed,  we  believe 
he'd  have  poetry  out  of  a  broom-stick,  if  necessary. 

Like  De  Quincey,  he  idealizes  every  thing,  throwing 
over  common  things  that  dreamy  sentimentality  which 
shows  that  they  are  the  utterances  of  a  mind  full  of  asso 
ciations  unknown  to  any  but  the  children  of  genius  ;  rais 
ing  thus  the  ordinary  occurrence,  the  mere  casuality,  into 
the  importance  of  an  epic  or  the  tragic  grandeur  of  a  fa 
tality.  And  oftentimes  the  poetry  and  the  passion  mellow 
and  blend  in  chaste  beauty,  and  the  pathos  goes  straight 
to  the  heart,  tender  and  touching  and  tearful ;  and  then 
as  he  soars  upward  again  on  some  sublime  spirituality  of 
sentiment,  or  lets  his  fancy  riot  in  the  full  flood  of  rapt 


340   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

imaginings,  the  oratorical  argument  grows  lyrical  in  its 
poetical  colorings,  over  it  a  mystical  and  weird-like  tinge 
is  thrown,  and  the  orator  stands  before  us,  like  an  Italian 
improvisators,  or  the  Homeric  rhapsodist,  telling  the  tale 
of  "  Troy  divine"  in  the  streets  of  the  Athenian  homes. 

The  peroration  of  one  of  his  arguments,  as  we  now  re 
call  it  from  memory,  after  an  interval  of  some  years,  was 
an  affecting  illustration  of  the  tender  and  beautiful  traits 
of  his  speaking.     It  was  an  argument  to  a  single  judge, 
sitting  without  a  jury,  to  hear  a  libel  for  divorce.     Daniel 
Webster  was  on  the  other  side,  and  he  supported  the  hus 
band's  petition  for  a  divorce,  on  the  ground  of  the  alleged 
wrong   of  the   wife.      Choate   defended   the  wife,  on  the 
ground  that  the  principal  witness  in  the  case  was  not  to  be 
believed,  and  that  the  wife  was  falsely  accused  by  the  hus 
band,  who  perhaps  was  impatient  of  the  matrimonial  chain. 
He  wound  up  a  close  and  clamorous  attack  upon  the  wit 
ness,  who  swore  to  certain  improprieties  of  a  young  man 
with  the  lady,  his  client,  by  the  vehement  declaration  that 
if  this  were  true,  "  that  young  man  is  the  Alcibiades  of 
America  ;';  this  he  uttered  with  impassioned  energy,  "fire 
in  his  eye  and  fury  on  his  tongue  ;"  and  then  he  made  a 
full  stop  ;  he  looked  into  the  stern,  grand  face  of  Web 
ster  ;  he  looked  at  the  scowling  husband  and  the  tearful 
wife  ;  he  looked  at  the  solemn  judge  •  his  eyes  seemed  to 
moisten  with  his  thought  ;  and  presently  a  grave,  calm, 
and  plaintive  tone  broke  the  deep  stillness  :   "Whom  God 
hath  joined  together,  let  no  man  put  asunder.     I  beseech 
your  Honor,  put  not  away  this  woman  from  her  wedded 
husband  to  whom  she  has  been  ever  true,  but  keep  them 
still  together,  and  erelong  some  of  the  dispensations  of  life, 
some  death-bed  repentance  of  a  false  witness,  giving  up  her 
falsehood  with  her  dying  breath,  some  sickness,  some  ca- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.          341 

lamity  touching  this  husband's  own  heart,  shall  medicine 
his  diseased  mind,  and  give  her  back  to  happiness  and  love." 
The  subduing  gentleness  and  plaintive  beauty  of  this  ap 
peal  to  the  stern  image  of  Justice,  aptly  personified  in  the 
single  judge,  sitting  silent  before  him,  was  made  more  marked 
by  the  bold,  strong  way  in  which  Webster,  who  instantly 
rose  to  reply,  began  his  argument.  For,  conscious,  appar 
ently,  of  the  strong  sympathy  which  Choate  had  raised,  he 
launched  a  heavy  blow  at  this  feeling  at  the  outset.  He 
opened  by  a  very  powerful,  but  unpolished  and  inharmo 
nious  comparison  of  the  husband's  fate,  if  not  divorced,  to 
the  punishment  recorded  in  history  of  a  dead  and  decaying 
body  lashed  for  ever  to  the  living  and  breathing  form  of 
the  condemned  criminal.  The  impassioned  prayer  of  the 
wife's  advocate,  however,  was  destined  to  prevail. 

The  rhythm  of  his  composition  we  do  not  think  is  very 
noticeable.  There  is  a  marked  rhythm  in  his  delivery,  and 
of  that  we  shall  speak  when  we  discuss  his  manner ;  but 
let  any  one,  unacquainted  with  his  ordinary  way  of  speak 
ing,  read  aloud  a  speech  of  his,  and  he  will  perceive  the 
want  of  any  m^fiijffll  quality,  such  as  constitutes  the  rhythm 
of  prose  ;  a  rhythm  not  like  that  of  poetry,  uniform  and 
monotonous,  but  ever-changing,  and  rising  and  falling  like 
the  wild  music  of  the  wind-harps  of  the  leafless  trees  in 
autumn,  or  the  sobbing  and  shouting  of  the  seas. 

His  oratorio  style,  we  think,  shows  for  itself,  that  it  is 
very  much  pre-written.  And,  indeed,  the  piles  of  paper 
behind  which  he  rises  to  address  a  jury,  and  which  disap 
pear  as  he  goes  on,  can  not  all  be  the  notes  of  evidence  in 
the  case  ;  and  the  nice  and  close  articulation  of  the  mem 
bers  of  his  sentences,  with  the  precise  placing  of  words, — 
words  not  measured,  but  fitted,  to  their  places — make  it 
certain  that  he  subscribes  to  Lord  Brougham's  theory,  that 


342    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

vagueness  and  looseness  and  weakness  of  matter  can  only 
be  prevented  "by  the  speaker's  careful.,  previous-written 
composition.  It  is  true  that  Choate  often  seems  diffuse 
and  wordy,  but  the  diffuseness  is  an  exuberance  of  illus 
trative  idea,  and  words  with  different  shades  of  meaning, 
or  additions  of  ornament,  not  mere  roundabout  paraphrases 
to  get  at  his  idea  the  best  way  he  can ;  he  strikes  out  his 
idea  as  sharp  and  clear  as  the  head  on  a  gold  dollar,  or  a 
medallion  of  Louis  Napoleon  ;  but,  like  that,  it  is  embossed 
in  relief,  and  laureled  with  imagery.  And,  on  the  whole, 
the  matter  of  Jiis  speeches,  so  successful  and  striking,  pre 
sents  a  splendid  and  encouraging  example  of  the  union  of 
general,  liberal,  and  polite  culture,  with  the  close  and  au 
stere  elements  of  firmness  and  solidity,  which  only  hard 
work  can  give, — hard  work  among  books  and  hard  work 
among  men. 

Brougham's  productions,  some  of  them  at  least,  have 
been  called,  "  law-papers  on  fire  ;"  and  in  reading  one  of 
Choate's  speeches,  we  catch  the  movement  and  velocity  of 
a  most  fiery  mind,  evidently  working  with  an  Arab-like 
rapidity,  and  running  faster  and  faster  in  its  course,  as  it 
mounts  its  climax  of  thought ;  rapid,  close,  short,  hard 
hitting  questions,  alternating  with  the  pictures  of  fancy 
and  the  breathings  of  passion  ;  and,  as  in  the  midst  of  the 
ornament  and  the  rapture,  the  iron  links  of  the  argument 
roll  out  and  wind  closer  and  closer,  and  the  groundwork 
once  established,  is  gone  over  with  confirming  and  victori 
ous  emphasis  again  and  again  ;  the  ideas  crowd  thick  and 
strong  on  the  mind,  the  sentences  grow  fuller  of  meaning, 
and  the 'vigor  and  solidity  of  the  whole  fabric  is,  as  if  the 
lion's  marrow  of  strength  were  poured  into  the  dry  bones 
of  the  skeleton  argument. 

And  now,  having  thus  slightly  analyzed  Mr.  Choate's 


HEMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.  343 

intellectual  enginery,  by  which  he  works  for  his  results,  let 
us  give  a  glance  at  him,  as  he  speaks,  and  in  full  action. 
There  are  many  orators  who  rely  almost  exclusively  on 
their  "  action ;"  that  is,  their  whole  delivery,  tones,  ges 
tures,  manner,  every  thing  ;  while  others  rely  mainly  on 
their  exhibitive  and  enforcing  power  of  rhetoric  ;  and  cer 
tainly  the  modern  pulpit  reckons  its  brightest  stars  among 
those  whose  style  of  matter  is  a  regular  fancy  arabesque. 
But  the  transcendent  legitimate  climax  of  oratorio  power 
will  never  be  attained  by  any  mere  excellence  of  matter  ; 
it  is  in  manner,  in  the  man.  That  terrible  outburst  of 
power,  that  incomprehensible  deivorrjg,  so  awful,  so  irre 
sistible,  with  which,  the  prince  of  orators,  in  the  most  cele 
brated  speech  yet  spoken  upon  earth,  tore  "the  crown" 
from  the  unwilling  hand  of  ^Eschines  and  set  it  for  ever 
on  his  own  forehead,  was  no  grace  of  matter,  but  a  tre 
mendous,  agonistic  style  of  passion  and  of  energy  in  the 
manner,  the  delivery,  the  man. 

Now,  in  their  manner,  some  men  of  note  are  almost 
exclusively  energetic  and  forcible ;  they  speak  with  nerves 
strung,  with  muscles  braced,  and  the  whole  frame  erect 
and  energized.  But,  usually,  these  are  unmelodious  and 
somewhat  harsh  in  speaking,  though  effective.  Lord 
Brougham  is  such  a  speaker,  and  many  others  whom 
we  could  name,  not  quite  so  far  off.  Others,  again,  are 
chiefly  pathetic,  and  graceful,  and  harmonious  speakers, 
speaking  in  rather  a  conversational  way,  and  with  a  grate 
ful  cadence.  Kossuth  is,  we  think,  to  be  thus  considered, 
and  also  our  own  Wendell  Phillips.  Either  of  these  men 
can  speak  two  or  three  hours  to  an  audience,  without 
wearying  them  ;  and  if  fully  aroused,  they  would  make- 
one  feel  that  it  was  worth  walking  a  good  many  miles  to 
hear  thorn  ;  but  the  declaim ers  of  the  mere.lv  enoi-ovtif.; 


3.44         REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C II  GATE. 

school  split  men's  ears,  and  tire  them  out  in  three  quarters 
of  an  hour.  But  the  subject  of  this  sketch  seems  to  us  to 
possess  many  of  the  capital  excellences  of  both  these  classes. 
In  his  oratory  there  is  a  vehemence  and  a  rapidity  of  utter 
ance  perfectly  overpowering,  and  yet  a  musical  now  and 
lone,  a  modulation  and  cadence,  a  pathos  and  sweetness  of 
inflection,  which  gives  him  the  power  to  storm  our  souls 
without  stunning  our  ears.  There  is  nothing  (in  his  de 
livery)  like  the  drain-beat  rolls  of  Father  Gravazzi's  intona 
tions,  pointing  with  fury  to  the  red  cross  upon 'his  breast, 
and  launching  the  thunder  of  his  passion  at  the  head  of 
Komc  ;  nothing  of  the  hill-side  stormings  of  Daniel  O'Con- 
nell  before  his  monster  meetings,  denouncing  England  ;  but 
there  is  tremendous  vehemence,  nevertheless,  which  makes 
'itself  felt  chiefly  in  the  rapid  rate  of  his  utterance,  and  in 
the  emphatic  stress  of  the  important  word  in  his  sentences; 
while  all  the  rest,  the  less  important  words  and  the  ca 
dences  by  which,  as  it  were,  he  dismounts  and  conies  down 
from  his  lofty  heights  of  shouting  emphasis,  run  along  rich, 
soft,  and  low,  sinking,  if  any  thing,  even  too  far  down  to 
ward  the  inaudible.  Frequently  he  produces  a  very  bold 
effect,  by  a  fierce  head-shattering  emphasis,  and  then  drop 
ping  right  down  instantly  to  the  simplest  colloquialism. 

He  does  not,  however,  speak  in  the  conversational  way. 
'It  used  to  be  said  of  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  that  when  you 
met  him  in  State  street,  and  heard  him  talk  about  prop 
erty,  you  heard  the  orator  Otis  almost  as  much  as  if  he 
were  in  Faneuil  Hall,  talking  about  politics.  But  nobody 
could  imagine,  from  talking  with  Rufus  Choate,»that  they 
had  heard  the  orator  Clioate.  His  delivery  is  the  mo^t 
rapid  and  sustained  and  emphatic  which  we  have  ever 
heard,  except  from  the  great  temperance  advocate,  GoUgh; 
while  it  lias  a  musical  flow  and  rhvthm  and  cadence,  more. 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.  345 

like  a  long  and  rising  and  swelling  song,  than  a  talk,  or  an 
argument.  Indeed,  his  rhythm  is  so  marked.,  that  on  first 
hearing  him  it  seems  a  little  like  sing-song,  but  this  im 
pression  soon  wears  off,  and  gives  way  to  a  pleasing  sensa 
tion  of  relief,  which  otherwise  his  vehemence  might  pre 
vent.  Not  possessing  that  liquid  melody  of  tone,  which 
in  the  common  accent  of  agreeable  conversation  seizes  and 
fills  the  ear ;  not  speaking,  indeed,  in  any  degree  in  the 
conversational  key,  which,  when  well  done,  will  by  its  va 
riety  of  inflection,  by  its  ever-changing  rhythm  and  natur 
alness,  hold  the  hearer  enchained  for  a  long  time  ;  he  relies 
on  this  extremely  nimble  and  feverish  style  of  utterance,  to 
seize  the  hearer's  mind,  and  keep  him  running  along  with 
him  at  a  top-speed,  till  either  he  chooses  to  let  go,  or  the 
auditor,  entirely  exhausted  though  not  disenchanted,  drops 
off  himself.  This  style  is  fatiguing  to  listen  to  in  a  speaker, 
although  fascinating  when  habit  or  genius  makes  it  natural ; 
because  one's  nerves  and  faculties  get  strung  and  driven  on 
to  such  a  degree  from  involuntary  sympathy  with  the 
speaker,  that  the  hearer  is  almost  equally  exhausted  when 
the  peroration  comes  as  the  performer  himself. 

Henry  Clay,  in  a  great  speech,  would  move  on  through 
the  oratorio  voyage,  as  gracefully  as  a  great  ship,  whose 
snowy  plumage  ruffles  and  shivers  in  various  breezes, 
stormy  and  placid  by  turns,  but  whose  movement  is 
always  majestic,  serene,  and  swanlike  o'er  the  sea  ;  but 
Choate  is  a  steam-propeller,  on  the  high-pressure  princi 
ple —  rushing  and  spattering  and  foaming  and  tearing 
ahead  at  a  dead  rate  all  the  way.  His  melody  is  one 
steady  tune  all  the  time  ;  its  modulations  and  intona 
tions  diversified  and  distinct,  but  all  servient  to  one- 
dominant  principle  of  melody,  whose  general  character  is 
permanently  stamped  on  all  he  utters  ;  even  like  "  the 


346  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

multitudinous  laughter"  of  the  waves,  mingling  with 
crashing  breakers  and  sobbing  billows,  but  all  subordi 
nate  to,  and  finally  lost  in,  the  one  great  ocean  diapa 
son — the  grand,  majestic  music  of  the  sea.  Somewhat 
in  the  same  way,  at  least  as  far  as  regards  unbroken  ve 
locity,  William  Pinkney  spoke — the  most  brilliant  legal 
speaker,  before  Choate,  in  this  country,  to  whom  Benton, 
in  his  "  Thirty  Years  in  the  Senate/''  attributes  the  great 
est  contemporary  repute  of  eloquence  in  America.  In  the 
first  moments  of  his  speech  he  did  not  win,  but  rather  re 
pulsed  you  ;  but  gathering  headway,  he  gained  more  and 
more  upon  you,  till  soon  he  took  the  helm  of  your  mind 
and  led  you  hither  and  thither  as  the  frenzy  and  the  mood 
swept  over  him.  And  precisely  the  same  thing  we  have 
heard  said  of  Mr.  Choate,  by  a  great  and  experienced  au 
thority  ;  for  the  eminent  critic  declared  that  he  listened  to 
Choate' s  Webster  speech  in  Faneuil  Hall,  at  first  with  dis 
like  and  then  with  indifference,  but  soon  with  delight  •  till 
presently  the  orator  got  full  command  of  him,  and  for  the 
moment  swept  him  wherever  he  would. 

Although  this  railroad  rapidity  of  movement  in  his 
elocution  conduces  thus  to  his  general  effect,  and  as  a  whole, 
perhaps,  gets  fuller  command  of  an  audience,  yet  it  cer 
tainly  very  much  weakens  the  effect  of  particular  passages. 
We  have  heard  the  most  affecting  and  illustrative  periods 
rattled  off  by  him  so  as  to  call  no  particular  attention  to 
them  ;  a  mere  dropping  fire  of  distant  musketry,  when  they 
should  have  been  delivered  with  all  the  deliberateness,  pre 
cision,  and  emphasis  of  minute-guns.  Grattan  tells  us  he 
heard  Lord  Chatham  speak  in  the  House  of  Lords  ;  and  it 
was  just  like  talking  to  one  man  by  the  button-hole,  except 
when  he  lifted  himself  in  enthusiasm,  and  then  the  effect 
of  the  outbreak  was  immense.  But  Choate  is  off  from  the 


REMINISCENCES      OF     It  U  F  U  S      C  H  O  A  T  E  .  '     347 

word  "  Go  \"  and  is  all  along  on  the  high  ropes,  and  bound 
ing  up  like  a  full-blooded  racer  all  the  time  ;  consequently, 
the  effect  of  all  the  higher  passages  is  damaged,  the  whole 
is  so  high  ;  we  can  not  have  mountains  unless  we  have  val 
leys. 

He  throws  the  same  fiery  enthusiasm  into  every  thing 
— a  great  case  or  a  little  one — a  great  speech  or  a  common 
occasion.  The  client  who  retains  this  great  advocate  may 
always  be  assured  that  he  gets  the  whole  of  him  ;  blood, 
brains,  every  thing — his  inspiration  and  his  perspiration — all 
are  fully  given  to  him.  And  in  managing  his  oratorio  artil 
lery  he  shows  great  tact  and  skill,  for  his  reputation  as  a 
master  of  eloquent  whirlwinds  is  such,  and  a  jury  are  so 
often  cautioned  on  this  account  by  the  opposing  counsel  to 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  him,  that  it  is  often  necessary  to 
approach  his  hearer's  mind  with  unpretending  simplicity, 
to  dissipate  his  fears  a  little  and  get  him  under  way  gently, 
before  he  can  be  whirled  into  the  vortex.  We  once  heard 
a  lawyer  who  had  often  heard  Choate  speak,  declare  that 
the  finest  exhibition  of  eloquence  he  ever  heard  from  him 
was  in  a  little  country  office,  before  a  judge  of  probate, 
upon  the  proving  of  a  will.  It  was  a  winter  morning,  and 
the  judge  sat  before  the  fire  with  his  feet  up  in  the  most 
careless  manner.  He  evidently  had  a  great  contempt  for 
oratory  as  applied  to  law,  and  was  quite  resolved  to  have 
none  of  it  ;  so  turning  up  his  head  as  he  saw  the  counsel 
for  the  heir  looking  at  a  pile  of  notes,  he  said,  in  the  most 
indifferent  way,  "  If  you've  any  objections  to  make,  Mr. 
Choate,  just  state  them  now."  (The  idea  of  .asking  Eufus 
Choate  to  "just  state"  any  thing  !)  Choate  began  in  the 
most  tame  manner  he  could  assume,  by  running  over  a  few 
dry  legal  saws  and  some  musty  and  absurd  principles  of 
];iw,  governing  wills.  The  old  judge  began  to  prick  up  his 


REMINISCE  NOES  OF   EUFUS  CHOATE. 

ears  ;  soon  the  argument  advanced  from  a  mere  legal  prin 
ciple  to  a  trifling  but  telling  illustration  of  it,  couched, 
however,  as  far  as  possible,  in  legal  phraseology  ;  the  judge 
gave  more  attention,  and  the  advocate  enforced  the  illustra 
tion  by  a  very  energetic  argument,  but  not  yet  flowery  ; 
and  speedily  the  judge's  legs  came  down  one  after  the  other, 
his  body  turned  round,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
speaker  ;  and  at  last,  as  he  rose  into  his  congenial  and 
unfettered  field  of  argument,  and  pictured  with  flaming 
passion  the  consequences  to  the  whole  domestic  and  social 
state  of  New  England,  if  the  construction  for  which  he 
contended  should  not  be  applied  to  the  wills  of  the  farmers 
of  New  England,  the  judge  fairly  nodded  in  admiring  ac 
quiescence,  and  the  unequaled  advocate  carried  the  case  and 
the  tribunal  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  vanquished  judge  was  only  in  the  same  predica 
ment  with  many  an  obdurate  jury.  Throughout  the  whole 
of  a  jury  argument,  you  see  the  resolute,  unflagging  will 
working  on  the  twelve  men.  When  he  woos  and  persuades, 
or  when,  with  more  determination,  he  seems  to  say,  "  you 
shall  believe  it,"  at  all  times  alike,  by  look,  by  expression 
of  face,  by  every  thing,  he  seems  to  say  first— -"  do  believe  it, 
but  if  you  won't,  you  shall  believe  it."  We  saw  him  once 
walk  right  up  to  a  juror  who  sat  on  the  front  seat  of  the 
jury-box,  looking  doggedly  incredulous — right  up  close  to 
him  he  walked,  and  bringing  down  his  clenched  fist  almost 
in  his  very  eyes,  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "give  me  your  attention, 
and  I  pledge  myself  to  make  this  point  ivliolly  clear  to  you." 
The  poor  man  looked  more  crest-fallen  and  criminal  than 
the  accused  prisoner  ;  he  opened  his  eyes  and  his  ears  too  ; 
one  after  another  the  fortifications  in  which  he  had  in 
trenched  his  resolution  for  "  a  verdict  against  Choate," 
wont  slambang  by  the  board  under  the  resistless  forensic 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.       349 

cannonading,  and  a  verdict  for  defendant  sealed  the  success 
of  that  daring  declamation. 

He  rarely,  however,  uses  invective  or  the  fiercer  and 
more  grand  styles  of  controversy  ;  but  through  all  he 
rather  coaxes  and  leads  and  lulls,  occasionally  only  aston 
ishing  and  compelling  assent  by  thundering  bravuras  of 
oratory.  A  tender  and  melancholy  strain  pervades  his 
utterances,  like  the  air  of  a  song  whose  thoughts  we  take 
in  with  our  mind,  but  whose  feeling  floats  into  our  hearts 
on  the  gentle  music  which  accompanies  the  words,  running 
through  melodious  variations  to  a  loving  and  sorrowing 
cadence.  And  often  when  his  glances  and  tones  show  him  to 
be  "in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling,"  suddenly,  as  if  some  soft  south 
wind  of  association  and  emotion  stole  over  him,  he  will  sink 
on  to  the  soft  pedal  of  his  vocal  instrument,  and  a  little 
episode  of  delicate  and  sad  fancies  will  shoot  into  the  coarse 
web  of  his  argument,  dropping  as  gently  from  his  lips  as 
dew  upon  the  flowers,  No  matter  how  vehemently  he  lifts 
his  voice,  no  matter  if  in  the  frenzy  of  passion  he  breaks 
out  in  some  mad  and  almost  bedlamitisii  shout,  he  will 
speedily  sink  into  the  lap  of  a  cadence  mournfully  beauti 
ful,  falling  upon  the  half-shocked  ear  as  west  winds  on  tho 
half  crushed  rose  buds.  In  the  speech  to  which  we  have  be 
fore  referred,  where  he  pictured  the  mourning  of  Mexico,  in 
the  funeral  songs  of  her  dark  daughters,  chanting,  "Ah, 
woe. is  me,  Alhama,  for  a  thousand  years!"  the  accents 
rung  and  moaned  through  that  old  Faneuil  Hall,  like  the 
lamenting  wail  of  a  banished  harpist,  sweeping  the  chords  of 
his  country's  memory.  So  universal  and  so  mournful  is  the 
pathetic  element  of  his  delivery  that  it  would  require  no 
very  wild  flight  of  romance  to  fancy  Calliope  herself,  the 
Muse  of  Eloquence,  mingling  for  ever  with  the  tones  of 


350          REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

her  most  favored  child  her  own  laments  for  her  "lost  art" 
of  perfect  oratory. 

Mr.  Choate's  "  action,"  as  far  as  bodily  gesture  and 
presence  are  concerned,  does  not  materially  aid  his  elo 
quence.  Some  orators'  pantomime  is  the  perfect  painting 
of  their  thoughts  ;  in  the  prophetic  expression  glancing 
o'er  their  face  like  the  shadows  on  a  summer's  sea  ;  in  the 
discriminating  gesture,  each  one  telling  its  own  story  with 
perfect  honesty  ;  in  the  bodily  bendings,  appealing  or  en 
forcing,  the  whole  story  is  told.  As  the  man  said  who  was 
somewhat  deaf,  and  could  not  get  near  to  Clay  in  one  of 
his  finest  efforts,  "  I  didn't  hear  a  word  he  said,  but,  great 
Jehovah  !  didn't  he  make  the  motions  !"  But  in  Choate, 
the  deaf  man  looking  at  him  would  see  a  gesture  compara 
tively  uniform,  and  chiefly  expressive  only  of  degrees  of  en 
ergy,  and  a  countenance  mainly  indicative  of  only  more  or 
less  intensity  of  nervous  passion.  His  countenance  is  by 
no  means  the  looking  glass  of  his  soul.  It  is  too  sallow 
and  bilious  ;  the  deepest  shadows  alone  are  visible  on  its 
dark  disk. 

He  has,  however,  one  extraordinary  instrument  of 
gesture,  rarely,  if  ever  used  before,  and  that  is  his  legs. 
For  it  is  a  frequent  resort  of  his,  by  way  of  emphasis,  to 
spring  up,  by  bracing  all  his  muscles,  and  settle  himself 
down  again  on  his  heels,  with  a  force  which  often  actually 
shakes  the  whole  court  room. 

His  voice  is  rich  and  deep,  not  resonant  and  metallic — 
a  quality  which  all  out-of-door  speakers  must  have — bul 
rather  woody  and  deficient  in  "  timbre."  In  dre§£rlie  looks 
as  if  his  clothes  had  been  flung  at  his  body  and  stuck  there. 
His  cravat  is  a  type  of  his  whole  costume  ;  that  was  once 
well  said  "  to  meet  in  an  indescribable  tie,  which  seems  like 
a  fortuitous  concurrence  of  original  atoms." 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     C II  GATE.  351 

With  many  orators,  the  spring  of  the  neck  from  the 
shoulders  gives  a  great  characteristic  effect  of  manner  to 
the  throwing  out  of  their  words.  Webster's  massive  neck, 
springing  from  his  shoulders  like  the  solid  oak,  enforced 
every  emphasis.  Chatham's  lofty  look  was  greatly  due  to 
the  set  of  his  head ;  and  of  Rachel,  the  tragedienne,  it  is 
said  that  a  certain  harmonious  distance  between  her  well- 
formed  ear  and  her  shoulders  lends  great  effect  to  her  cor 
rect  gesticulation  and  her  dignified  attitudes.  But  Choate 
has  hardly  any  elements  of  figure  or  person  peculiarly  favor 
able  to  oratory,  except  his  eyes  ;  they  send  forth  lightnings, 
and  sparkle  and  burn  like  a  fire-eyed  worshiper  of  the  East. 
It  is  rather  in  spite  of  his  physique,  in  spite  of  nature  and 
his  stars,  as  Pinkney  said  of  Fox,  that  he  is  a  first-class 
orator. 

And  we  think,  with  profound  deference  to  so  great  an 
authority,  that  he  rather  makes  a  mistake  in  neglecting 
action,  and  relying  too  exclusively  on  mere  vehemence  and 
weight  of  ear-filling  words  and  ear-catching  thoughts  ;  for, 
after  all,  for  the  mass  of  mankind,  action,  not  composition, 
is  the  thing — oratory,  not  rhetoric.  The  brilliant  uniforms 
of  the  sunshine  soldiery  will  do  for  a  dress-parade,  but  they 
are  in  the  way  in  battle  ;  for  business,  for  profit,  for  victory, 
we  want  the  old  gray  coats,  and  no  wadding  but  the  solid 
bone  and  muscle  in  them.  And  if  Demosthenes  were  to 
rise  from  his  ashes  in  the  urn  to-day,  he  could  never  say  a 
better  thing  than  he  did  when  thrice  he  answered  the  thrice- 
asked  question,  What  is  the  essence  of  oratory  ?  "  Action, 
action,  action  !"  By  action,  he  meant  no  mere  school  of 
gesture,  but  every  bodily  element  of  expression  of  thought 
— the  vocality,  the  passion,  the  whole  movement. 

But  we  must  finish  our  picture,  feeling,  after  all,  great 
disappointment  that  we  can  give  no  better  idea  of  this 


352      REMINISCENCES    OF    R  U  F  U  S    C  II  O  A  T  E . 

strange  and  incomprehensible  orator.  He  can  not  be  da- 
guerreo typed,  lie  can  only  be  hinted  at  \  and  as  we  have 
heard  a  painter  say  of  a  provokingly  elusive  face,  you  must 
make  a  memorandum  of  the  countenance,  and  let  fancy  do 
the  rest.  The  faint  idea  which  a  literally  exact  speech  re 
ported  would  give  can  not  be  had,  for  no  reporter  can  follow 
him ;  and  after  a  speech  he  can  not  tell  what  he  said.  There 
are  his  copious  notes,  to  be  sure,  at  your  service,  which  lie 
can't  read,  and  the  man  has  yet  to  be  born  of  woman  who 
can. 

There  have  been  moments  when,  in  speaking  for  the 
life  of  a  man,  he  rose  above  himself,  his  head  grew  classic 
and  commanding,  his  form  towered  up  into  heroic  impres- 
siveness,  and  then,  indeed,  he  grasped  the  thunderbolt  ; 
for  then  it  was  given  him  faintly  to  shadow  forth  that  con 
summate  eloquence,  the  dream  and  the  ideal  of  antiquity  ; 
the  unapproached  combination  of  logic  and  learning,  and 
poetry  and  passion,  and  music  and  action,  all  in  one  flash 
ing  cloud,  rolling  electric  over  men — the  most  imposing 
form  of  power  which  God  has  ever  given  into  the  hands  of 
men. 

Other  jury  advocates  may  surpass  him  in  single  points  ; 
but  take  him  for  all  and  all,  we  think  he  brings  more  varied 
and  higher  qualities,  more  intellectual  weight  of  metal  to 
the  Bar,  than  any  man  of  our  time  who  has  made  legal 
advocacy  the  almost  exclusive  theater  of  his  energies  and 
his  fame.  Erskine  may  have  had  more  simple  grace  of  dic 
tion,  and  a  more  quiet  and  natural  passion  ;  Curran  may 
have  had  an  equally  im passionate  but  more  unstudied  rush 
of  fervor,  in  his  Celtic  raptures  ;  Ogden  Hoffman  may  be 
more  naturally  melodious  in  his  rhythm,  suggesting  more 
vividly  the  fable  of  him  who  had  a  nest  of  singing  birds  in 
his  throat  ;  and  possibly  Pinkney  may  have  had  a  harder 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C II  GATE.          353 

legal  head,  for  laying  the  foundations  of  his  legal  rhetoric ; 
but  when  we  consider  that  he  adds  to  so  many  forensic 
arts  such  wide-varying  intellectual  accomplishment — al 
most  satisfying  Cicero's  magnificent  myth  of  him  who 
should  make  himself  the  most  illustrious  of  orators,  by  first 
being  the  foremost  man  in  every  branch  of  learning  which 
men  could  talk  about — then  we  unhesitatingly  rank  him 
the  first  orator,  as  well  as  most  formidable  advocate,  who 
now,  in  any  quarter  of  the  globe  where  the  English  lan 
guage  is  spoken,  is  ever  seen  standing  before  the  jury 
panel. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

FORENSIC   ARGUMENTS, 

MR.  CHOATE'S  arguments  before  the  Jury  and  to  the 
Judges  in  bane,  as  also  before  Legislative  committees,  Kef- 
erees,  etc.,  are,  so  far  as  they  have  been  preserved,  the  su 
preme  monuments  of  his  genius.  Unfortunately,  however, 
comparatively  few  of  them  have  ever  been  preserved.  In 
his  later  years,  stenography  had  so  far  advanced  as  an  art, 
that  it  became  possible  to  report  him ;  but  before  that,  no 
reporter  could  keep  pace  with  the  fiery  velocity  of  his 
thought  and  utterance. 

Many  of  the  following  arguments,  and  passages  from 
arguments  of  his,  were  written  down  at  the  time  of  their 
delivery,  by  myself,  or  some  other  member  of  the  Bar,  who 
sat  by  in  the  court  room  ;  I  doubt  if  they  were  preserved 
or  exist  in  any  other  form.  A  few  of  them  are  from  steno 
graphic  reports. 

Mr.  Choate's  popular  and  political  speeches  were 
generally  fully  reported,  and  often,  revised  by  him. 
It  is  expected  that  they  will  appear  in  appropriate  Vol 
umes,  published  for  his  family. 

But  his  Jury  appeals  are  mostly  preserved  only  in  loose 
MS.,  and  can  be  found  nowhere  else  than  here.  Those  I 
took  down  myself  and  those  which  others  thus  took  down, 
I  give  here,  that  they  may  stand  some  chance  of  preserva 
tion  in  the  tangible  and  permanent  shape  of  print. 


KEMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.      355 
THE    EASTMAN    AND    FONDEY   CASE. 

The  first  case  of  his  of  which  I  have  any  recollection, 
was  one  where  a  firm,  Messrs.  Eastman  &  Fondey,  were 
indicted  for  fraud,  in  their  mercantile  transactions.  They 
alleged  themselves  wholly  insolvent. 

The  case  was  tried  in  the  Municipal  Court  in  Suffolk, 
at  the  September  term,  1845,  Judge  Gushing  presiding. 

After  the  government  had  put  in  their  case,  Mr.  Choate 
opened  for  the  defendants.  The  following  sentences  from 
his  address  were  taken  down  at  the  moment : 

Shall  it  ever  be  said  that  two  merchants  whose  integrity 
up  to  the  day  of  their  arrest  was  not  even  suspected,  whose 
honor  up  to  the  last  falling  sands  of  this  hour  has  not  been 
stained  by  the  first  breath  of  evidence  adduced  by  the  pros 
ecuting  officer,  whose  transcendent  power  in  ferreting  out 
evidence  and  whose  untiring  vigilance  leaves  no  stone  un 
turned  :  shall  it  be  said  that  such  men  are  in  danger,  or 
that  harm  can  disturb  a  hair  of  their  head,  when,  showing 
a  clear  breast,  they  place  all  of  life  that  is  worth  living  for, 
in  the  hands  and  at  the  disposal  of  a  jury  of  Suffolk  ?  No, 
not  a  word  !  not  one  word  !  not  a  word !  Justice  will  be 
meted  out  considerately,  wisely,  justly  ;  and  men  in  every 
station  will  be  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  that  benign  and 
felicitous  provision  which  we  are  all  pleased  to  recognize 
and  apply  to  the  stranger,  alien,  brother,  friend  or  foe — the 
presumption  of  the  law  that  the  defendant  is  innocent.  It 
stands  beside  my  client  throughout  this  day's  trial  like  a 
guardian  angel,  and  cheers  him  mid  the  peril  of  this  hour. 
I  would  cease  this  speech  right  here  if  I  deemed  it  necessary 
or  proper,  and  challenge  my  brother  to  put  his  finger  on 
one  scintilla  of  evidence  pointing  to  the  grave  charge  in  his 
manifesto.  Fraud,  fraud,  my  brother  says.  Where  is  it  ? 


356          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

Where  ?  Fraud,  gentlemen,  is  a  harsh  word  ;  but  let  us 
find  it  first.  The  cry  of  wolf  when  there  is  no  wolf,  mad 
dog,  and  a  thousand  other  things,  may  set  the  police  astir; 
but  who  shall  protect  the  stricken  deer  whom  the  herd  hath 
bft  far  behind  ? 

Have  we  not  all  felt,  and  did  we  not  all  share  the  shock 
which  the  great  storm  of  insolvency  gave  to  the  commer 
cial  world?  The  strongest  trembled  like  reeds  in  the  blast; 
but  did  we  cry  fraud,  as  if  all  men  had  been  by  magic 
made  villains  ?  Is  uusuccess  criminal  ?  If  so  the  mar 
iner,  merchant,  poet,  philosopher,  mechanic,  aye,  the  apple 
ivoman  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  all  are  criminals,  for 
all  have  failed  to  succeed.  Their  boldest  conceptions,  purest 
dreams,  fairest  hopes,  have  not  resulted  in  the  real;  still  we 
would  not  be  eager,  from  kindness  of  heart,  to  accuse,  de 
nounce,  or  brand  their  deeds,  by  cruel  speech,  as  a  bald 
fraud.  It  may  have  been  a  brilliant  failure,  but  a  bald 
fraud — never,  never. 

Few  lessons  of  experience  are  sweet.  Life  hath  its 
bubbles  as  the  ocean  hath  ;  circumstances  hurry  us  madly 
along,  whither  we  know  not,  nor  for  what  haven.  Many 
a  merchant  has  retired  full  of  hope,  and  risen  to  look  upon 
a  wreck  of  his  fortune.  What  says  the  police  officer,  the 
alderman  with  good  capon  lined  ?  Fraud — a  thousand 
frauds,  phoenix-like,  leap  up  to  feast  the  depraved  ear,  cul 
tured  to  foul  reports,  dealt  out  by  busy-tongued  slander. 

Defeat  and  unsuccess  may  be  honorable,  if  honesty 
guide  the  victim ;  and  success  may  stain  the  good  name  of 
the  best  of  us  all  if  attained  by  criminal  means  ;  then,  gen 
tlemen,  go  with  me  to  the  evidence  ;  and  if  you  see  fraud, 
it  will  be  your  duty  to  convict  ;  if  not,  your  pleasure  and 
duty  to  acquit. 

When  Mr.  Choate  had  concluded  his  opening  to  the 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.     357 

jury,  he  proceeded  to  put  in  his  case,  and  his  witnesses 
were  called.  After  his  evidence  was  all  in,  he  addressed 
the  jury,  closing  for  his  client.  The  following  are  extracts 
taken  down  from  his  lips  : 

Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  have  no  anxiety  in  submitting 
the  cause  of  my  clients  to  your  unbiassed  deliberation,  for 
I  too  well  know  the  candor  and  unbending  integrity  of  a 
jury  of  Suffolk,  to  feel  any  hesitancy  or  reluctance  in  plac 
ing  all  that  is  dear  and  worth  living  for  in  their  hands  and 
at  their  disposal.  I  need  not  enforce  the  importance  of  a 
good  name  in  a  mercantile  community  like  ours.  I  should 
censure  myself  if  I  should  indulge  in  any  illustration  or 
much  speech  upon  a  theme  familiar  to  you  as  the  primer 
of  your  boyhood. 

Speaking  of  their  Arrest. — They  had  returned  to  their 
homes,  to  inhale  a  breath  from  the  atmosphere  freed  from 
the  noise  and  din  of  busy  life,  cares  hanging  like  a  portent 
ous  cloud  over  their  hearts  ;  their  fortunes  had  taken  unto 
themselves  wings,  and  were  scattered  like  forest  leaves 
chased  by  the  winds  ;  they  were  found  by  Mr.  King  in 
tears.  Yes,  gentlemen,  on  that  fatal  Friday  night,  hope 
went  out  in  their  bosoms  like  a  farthing  candle  at  daylight; 
and  they  were  dragged  by  the  sheriff  to  wear  away  the 
watches  of  the  night  in  a  feloft's  cell. 

Speaking  of  Mr.  Fondey's  Honesty. — Do  we  not  tear 
our  hearts  from  our  bosoms,  and  wear  them  on  our  sleeves, 
that  you  may  see  that  their  pulsations  are  honest  and  their 
beatings  true  ? 

Without  temporary  loss  of  character,  often  when  a  sol 
dier  is  run  through  with  the  bayonet,  and  sunk  down  mid 
the  dead  and  dying,  God  in  his  mercy  raises  him  up  and 


358         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

crowns  him  with  the  laurels  of  fame,  and  rests  upon  it  the 
mantle  of  honor. 

The  law,  as  it  were,  plucks  the  arrow  from  the  stricken 
deer  which  the  common  herd  hath  left  far  behind. 

Creditors  open  the  Desk  of  Eastman  &  Go. — Their  desk 
was  broken  open,  and  their  papers  read,  which  were  as 
sacred  to  them  as  the  letters  of  their  courtship. 

Speaking  of  the  Firm' spaying  Usury,  which  the  Govern 
ment  argued  was  strong  evidence  of  their  intention  to  de 
fraud. — Is  it  possible  to  think  rationally,  that  if  a  person 
was  going  to  plunge  into  a  cataract  below  the  precipice, 
he  would  be  over  careful  not  to  moisten  his  feet  with  dew  ? 
It  is  sheer  nonsense — senseless  talk  ;  not  a  schoolboy  in 
Massachusetts  would  waste  a  breath  over  such  twaddle.  It 
was  no  rashness  like  a  sailor  resorting  to  the  spirit  room, 
to  intoxicate  his  system  that  he  might  go  down  with  the 
ship  without  a  groan,  without  a  bubble.  But  an  effort  by 
strong  men  to  escape  the  great  storm  of  insolvency  which 
had  or  would  soon  overtake  them;  they  all  unconscious  of 
its  stealthy  and  deathly  approach. 

Speaking  of  a  Witness,  he  said — His  memory  is  playing 
tricks  with  him  ;  his  feelings  are  running  a  race  with  his 
intellect. 

Speaking  of  the  Story  of  a  Witness  as  being  false,  he 
said — The  story  is  as  unlike  the  truth  as  a  pebble  is  unlike 
a  star — a  witch's  broom-stick  like  a  banner-staff. 


CASE   OF    ALLEGED    FRAUD   IN   AN   INSOLVENT    DEBTOR. 

The  following  is  a  case  in  which  the  names  of  the  parties 
are  unknown  to  me  ;  and  the  extracts  of  the  argument  are 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.          359 

somewhat  incoherent,  although  the  general  character  of 
the  issue  is  plain.  The  broken  and  abrupt  extracts,  how 
ever,  will  serve  to  illustrate  Mr.  Choate's  way  of  bursting 
out  in  the  course  of  an  argument  with  sudden  exclamations 
and  surprising  conceits. 

The  trial  was  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  Judge 
Washburn  on  the  Bench.  It  was  a  case  of  alleged  fraud 
in  an  insolvent  debtor,  and  the  plaintiff  charged  in  four 
specifications,  to  wit : 

1st.  That  since  the  debt  was  contracted  the  defendant 
has  secured  his  property  for  his  own  use. 

2d.  That  when  he  purchased  the  goods  he  intended  to 
defraud  his  creditors. 

3d  Charge  relates  to  the  property  in  the  boxes  and  the 
mortgaged  property  conveyed  to  his  father. 

4th.  That  at  a  particular  time  he  discharged  a  debt 
against  his  father,  and  often  had  notes  of  his  father's  in 
order  to  cheat  his  creditors.  Mr.  Choate  was  for  the 
plaintiff. 

He  said; — Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  this  is  a  case  of  some 
considerable  importance,  yet  when  we  look  into  it  we  shall 
see  it  is  overrated.  Every  case  which  involves  the  principle 
of  debt  and  credit  is  important.  Lives  there  a  man  in 
Suffolk  who  has  no  sympathy  with  the  criminal  ? 

We  rely  upon  the  humane  and  temperate  justice  of 
the  law. 

Imprisonment  for  debt,  thank  God,  is  blotted  from  the 
statutes 

The  Court  will  proceed  with  a  wisdom  we  shall  all  ap 
preciate  ;  and  we,  in  our  judicial  capacity,  shall  administer 
justice  and  the  law  with  lenity  and  care. 


360          REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

We  said  that  the  defendant  has  been  fervent  to  the 
faith  and  credit  that  set  him  on  his  journey  for  life  ;  but 
this  calamity  came  upon  him,  and  he  had  not  virtue 
enough  to  resist  the  temptation. 

A  most  remarkable  attack  has  been  made  upon  the 
credibility  of  one  witness,  whose  evidence  is  fair  as  the 
morning  star. 

In  considering  the  next  fact,  it  becomes  us  to  throw  off 
our  manly  sympathy  and  erect  ourselves  for  the  dignity  of 
the  law. 

It  is  the  second  day  of  his  extremity,  the  night  of  his 
sorrow,  the  storm  which  will  shipwreck  his  golden  hopes. 

We  say  he  took  three  hundred  and  thirty-one  dollars — 
of  West  India  goods,  as  my  learned  brother  calls  them — 
consisting  of  shovels,  hoes,  and  other  hardware,  delivering 
it  to  his  parent — a  too  parental  hand. 

He  failed ;  but  seventy-five  per  cent,  comes  like  dew 
upon  the  parched  flower,  to  quench  the  thirst  of  the  care 
worn  creditor ;  and  bids  him  sit  down  in  the  security  of 
peace.  I  am  almost  ready  to  ask  the  judicial  indignation 
of  you,  Gentlemen  of  the  jury. 

It  is  the  most  bald,  the  most  shocking  fraud,  with 
which  our  mercantile  community  have  been  startled  from 
their  sleep  since  that  first  primeval  morn  when  the  honest 
Pilgrim  first  left  his  honest  footstep  upon  the  sands  of  our 
glorious  New  England. 

We  are  not  to  reason  here  upon  the  calamity  of  the 
general  chances  of  trade — this  man  does  a  snug  business — 
trusts  next  to  nobody — what  his  expenses  were  you  are  to 
judge — that  he  did  not  spread  himself  upon  the  sea  of  ex 
travagance,  and  buffet  this  strong  current. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHUATE.     361 

The  father  of  the  defendant  comes  here  with  more  than 
the  feelings  of  a  father — he  comes  here  to  wash  his  hands 
of  the  same  crime  which  his  son  is  charged  with.  Old  age 
shows  not  the  frosts  of  disappointment ;  it  wilts  not  when 
accusation  is  brought  against  it  ;  but  a  young  man  i,s 
blasted  if  a  black  spot  is  stamped  upon  his  reputation. 

I  do  not  know  why  I  should  not  stop  here,  and  hang  up 
before  you  the  black  chart  of  his  whole  career,  and  let  you 
judge  of  his  motives — his  red  acts  of  crime — or  his  over 
strained  honesty  in  paying  his  creditors. 

Every  line,  every  assertion,  every  representation,  wears 
upon  the  face  of  it  deception,  dishonesty; — the  blackest 
fraud  that  ink  can  mar  the  purest  sheet  of  paper  with. 

Nobody  knows  any  thing  about  these  losses,  he  says  he 
has  experienced;  and  it  is  a  most  painful  truth  that  all  these 
things  are  carried  out  in  the  most  minute  detail  to  cheat 
the  persons  who  extended  the  patronage  to  him — his  pil 
lars  in  trade  and  his  victims,  to  prey  upon  them  ;  and 
then  he  cries  out,  "  Trade  is  hazardous."  But  his  trade 
was  a  safe  one.  It  was  no  shaking  of  dice  or  hazard ;  it 
was  a  sure  game,  and  he  pocketed  the  stakes  before  he 
won — forsaking  even  the  motto,  "  Honesty  among  thieves." 

That  wallet  in  which  the  notes  were,  haunts  me  ;  I  go 
for  the  wallet ;  which  is  a  trashy  thing  at  best,  but  in  this 
case  contains  the  jewel  which  we  are  warring  for — "  The 
wallet  is  the  thing  !" 

It  was  no  raw  experiment,  but  one  full  of  craft  and  low 
intrigue. 

Was  it  true  that  he  stood  upon  this  fearful  chasm  and 
trembled  not  ;  but  firmly  told  his  tale  of  flattery,  and 

16 


362          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

gained  the  credit    to   the   amount  of  forty-one   hundred 
dollars  ? 

It  was  a  dreadful  lie  !  and  he  shadows  forth  from  his 
dark  heart  the  intent  to  defraud — he  knew  the  men  whom 
he  was  to  buy  off — he  stole  their  confidence  ;  a  rich  treasure. 

It  is  never  unseasonable  to  bring  to  the  Court  the  fact 
that  a  witness  always  tells  the  truth — it  does  not  set  the 
foul  stigma  of  perjury  upon  his  heart. 

Try  witnesses  not  by  caprice,  but  by  the  legal  standard 
— else  the  law  is  a  laggard — else  you  hazard  your  homes  ; 
his  father  testifies  ;  we  know  he  would  save  his  son  at  the 
price  of  his  blood — his  own  right  hand  would  be  a  small 
sacrifice  for  him.  Trouble  is  in  the  camp.  But  the  young 
life  is  not  to  be  worn  out  in  the  jail,  even  if  convicted  of 
this  fraud  ;  but  that  wallet  is  to  be  unclasped  and  the  con 
tents  scattered  to  his  fainting  creditors — not  fainting,  but 
honest  men  who  have  toiled,  and  won  the  rewards  of  labor. 


I  appeal  to  his  Honor,  who  is  to  sum  up  the  ardor  of 
this  debate,  if  the  father  could  be  charged  with  perjury,  or 
at  least  be  held  as  criminal,  if,  to  save  his  son,  he  has  not 
sworn  the  truth  before  us. 

* 
An  empty  bag  can't  stand  up  ;  but  look  at  the  power, 

the  veracity,  the  spirit,  memory,  soul  he  has  ;  but  he  has 
also  an  infirm  virtue  which  has  lost  its  luster. 

I  am  sorry  to  cause  any  uneasiness  on  your  part,  though 
the  trial  is  lengthy — for  this  is  an  important  case,  and  re 
quires  a  careful  attention,  and  will,  I  trust,  lead  to  a  just 
verdict. 

The  association  is  good  for  minds  blunted  with  age  j 
may  it  please  your  Honor — experience  teaches  this. 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.  363 

When  that  miserable  ceremony  was  enacted,  the  note 
was  mutilated,  and  cast  upon  the  floor.  The  new  note  was 
in  the  wallet  of  the  young  man,  tied  up  closely — chained 
with  white  tape,  a  countryman's  tape.  And  then  the  de 
fendant  takes  the  Poor  Debtor's  oath,  under  those  circum 
stances. 

Is  there  any  color  or  pretense  that  the  law  of  Imprison 
ment  for  debt,  which  has  been  abolished,  is  to  take  effect 
in  this  trial  ?  God  forbid  such  an  outrage. 

The  universal  business  morality  is  debauched  by  an  ac 
quittal  of  this  man  under  the  present  state  of  the  evidence. 

He  is  quick,  keen,  knows  when  to  hold  his  tongue,  with 
the  cunning  of  a  bushy-tailed  fox — all's  right.  It's  the 
Jack  Kobinson  game  ;  presto,  change — money  under  the 
cup  ;  shallow  philosophy  ! 

You,  gentlemen,  sitting  here  upon  your  oaths,  the  good 
men  of  your  county,  the  sagacity  of  Suffolk,  the  nerves  of 
the  law — if  you  can  conceive  that  black  is  white,  you  can 
reconcile  these  acts  as  innocent  ones.  No,  gentlemen,  the 
Evil  One  was  in  the  wind,  and  he  blew  the  dust  the  wrong 
way  !  We  have  tracked  them — we  have  treed  them  ;  and 
now  they  look  down-spirited.  Well  they  might,  with  such 
a  sin  upon  their  hands,  and  the  frown  of  offended  Heaven 
resting  upon  them  ! 

WThere  is  the  blank  book  ?  Where  is  the  wallet  ? 
Echo  answers,  "  Where  ?" 

There  they  sit,  folding  up  their  arms,  with  the  same 
perpendicular  position  as  their  counsel,  both  mentally  and 
physically. 


364  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

Where  is  the  blank  book  ?  "  I  looked,"  said  Falstaff, 
"  and  sent  for  a  dozen  yards  of  taffeta,  and  to  my  surprise 
they  sent  me  security!'  This  is  a  parallel  case. 

The  defendant's  case  breaks  down — it's  dead — down 
under  the  last  leaf  of  the  blank  book  where  the  412  is  ; 
that  last  leaf  is  the  epitaph  of  the  case  !  It  is  their  tomb 
stone  ! 

We  see  him  shoving  out  to  the  tune  of  twenty-seven 
hundre.d  dollars.  God  forgive  us  when  we  complain  of  too 
much  light  from  his  bounteous  hand.  This  is  the  situa 
tion  in  which  we  are  placed. 

It  is  not  a  fiddle-stick's  importance  how  many  notes 
there  were. 

With  the  oath  of  God  upon  his  conscience,  his  father's 
notes  on  hand,  he  feels  safe,  secure  ;  dreadful,  shallow, 
wicked,  up  to  the  very  length  of  his  dwarfish  height. 

You  are  the  judges  of  this  case,  and  I'm  glad  you  are  ; 
and  if  you  have  the  least  doubt  as  to  the  design  of  this 
man,  you  will  give  an  acquittal.  If  not,  you  will  convict 
him  of  the  fraud. 

John  Small,  the  witness,  sits  in  court,  spectacles  on 
nose,  and  was  summoned  last  evening  ;  and,  upon  exami 
nation,  we  are  led  to  think  that  he  grew  blind,  not  reading 
his  Bible,  but  some  base  fiction,  which  has  led  him  in  the 
wrong  path  for  this  once. 

CASE   ON   SUNDAY   LAWS. 

The  next  argument  of  which  I  have  any  extracts  was 
an  indictment  found  against  a  defendant  for  violation  of 
the  Sunday  laws,  which  in  Massachusetts  were  very  strin 
gent.  Mr.  Choate  went  back  to  the  origin  of  the  Sun- 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.          365 

day  legislation,  and  the  general  religious  ordinances  of  the 
Massachusetts  colony.  He  showed  how  severe  the  early 
ideas  were,  and  the  absurdities  that  would  result  if  those 
provisions  which  still  remained  were  literally  and  not  liber 
ally  enforced.  In  reference  to  the  construction  of  the  par 
ticular  statute  under  consideration,  he  said  : 

We  have  annihilated  the  bigotry  and  mysticism  which 
blinded  our  fathers.  There  has  been  a  continued  revolu 
tion  going  on  in  the  laws  ever  since  the  public  mind  gave 
them  birth,  and  an  enlarged  view  of  morals  has  ob 
tained. 

Showing  the  practical  inconsistency  which  prevailed  in 
the  enforcement  of  this  class  of  laws,  he  said  : 

The  Massachusetts  commonwealth  which  is  embodied 
in  the  Attorney  General — this  Massachusetts  common 
wealth  has  her  great  Western  Kailroad,  and  she  comes 
thundering  and  rattling  into  our  city,  and  her  passengers 
come,  and  the  hacks  go  and  bring  them  home,  but  no  one 
is  arrested  ;  the  steamer  arrives,  the  flags  are  raised,  the 
post  office  opened,  the  citizens  running  to  get  the  lastest 
news,  if  flour  has  risen,  cotton  fallen — and  no  one  is  ar 
rested  ;  Marshal  Gibbs  is  not  on  the  wharf  to  see  if  a 
merchant  goes  into  his  counting-house,  takes  his  papers, 
sets  his  ship  adrift  ;  he  does  not  come  up  here  and  get  out 
an  indictment  against  our  merchant.  "Oh,  ye  hypocrites  ! 
straining  at  a  gnat,  and  swallowing — a  steamer/'  You 
gentlemen,  will  swallow  no  such  thing ! 

Again  he  said  :  The  fears  and  imaginations  of  that  gen 
eration  were  vain  as  air.  They  thought  unless  law  urges 
men  to  the  support  of  religion,  some  strumpet  will  be 
dressed  up  as  the  Goddess  of  Reason,  and  Bostonians  will 
fall  down  and  worship  her. 

Mr.  Choate  was  very  fond  of  Patent  causes.    He  took  a 


366      REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

vast  interest  in  invention.  A  case  where  lie  defended  the 
new  adaptation  of  a  machine  for  making  and  winding 
thread,  gave  him  occasion  for  much  brilliant  apostrophe 
and  allusion.  His  national  allusions,  in  the  following  ex 
cerpts,  are  very  striking.  The  extracts  are  fragmentary, 
but  intelligible : 

PATENT   CASE   OF   THREAD-MACHINE. 

The  case  was  opened  to  the  jury  by  the  senior  counsel, 
Mr.  Choate.  He  said: — In  the  great  singularity  of  this 
case,  I  shall  confine  my  attention  to  the  facts. 

This  suit  is,  indeed,  a  singular  affair  ;  no  instance  of  a 
like  character  ever  has  occurred  in  this  country  before — or 
under  the  American  heavens. 

The  productions  of  the  most  gifted  minds  in  England 
have  been  adapted  to  our  own  benefit  when  it  was  deemed 
necessary.  Time  out  of  mind,  time  immemorial,  like  a 
universal  custom,  it  has  been  repeated.  It  has  been  the 
custom  in  France,  and  nearer  to  us ;  and  the  moral  right 
has  never  been  questioned. 

The  family  of  nations  have  recognized  the  practice,  and 
it  is  the  law  of  nations. 

In  cutlery,  needles,  pins,  cigars,  drugs,  imitations  have 
been  made  which  bring  the  great  and  grand  originals  into 
public  notoriety. 

The  manner  and  taste,  the  aesthetics,  have  been  a  studied 
branch,  and  engravers  have  kept  them  on  hand  for  sale  ; 
they  do  it  with  alacrity  ;  the  configuration  is  got  up  by 
others — from  these  the  architect  borrows  his  designs  as  a 
matter  of  taste. 

They  have  gone  on  and  made  this  thread,  so  far  as  the 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   367 

earthly  fluctuation  would  not  interfere  with  their  busi 


ness. 


The  notion  has  been  spread  in  community  that  mis 
chief  was  going  on  ;  this  was  by  agents.  A  bitter  com 
plaint  was  entered  against  the  defendant,  under  these 
singular  and  novel  circumstances. 

Mr.  Carpenter,  the  defendant,  being  so  little  fond  of 
law  suits  that  he  paid  the  fine,  with  the  expectation  of 
never  being  again  troubled  ;  they  gave  encouragement  to 
that  effect.  It  was  the  only  inducement  for  such  a  set 
tlement. 

The  law  is  recognized  between  subjects  in  England  ; 
but  as  between  citizens  of  countries  in  proximity  with 
them  is  not  known  ;  great  respect  is  shown  to  this  law  ; 
and  under  it  they  have  rights  attached  there  ;  and  the 
courts  do  not  rule  against  the  customs  of  ages — they  do 
not  rule  against  all  habits  of  business.  Legislative  action 
is  necessary  here  in  our  country.  This  catching  up,  trap 
ping  men  is  not  in  their  practice. 

And  as  for  the  mere  imitation,  we  have  a  right  to  make 
as  good  an  article  as  England,  and  diminish  their  business  ; 
if  the  law  is  vigorous  in  punishing  men  who  sin  with  their 
eyes  open,  they  will  have  "justice  though  the  heavens 
fall/' 

Yankees'  claims  are  dear  to  them  as  England's  rights 
are  dear  to  them  ;  they  are  now  to  be  protected  by  the 
broad  shield  of  justice — laio  is  the  guardian  angel  of  our 
land — tho  intercessor  between  right  and  wrong. 

The  jealous  policy  of  England  comes  into  our  midst 
with  its  lion  face,  and  says  "  Nothing  is  good  but  English/' 


368  '   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

and  it  has  been  the  notion  ground  into  our  minds  ;  the 
light  of  civilization  gleaming  with  its  brightest  luster  can 
not  do  away  this  idle,  foolish  prejudice  ;  but  the  notion  is 
one  against  American  industry. 

The  experience  of  protection  to  our  honest  yeomanry 
engaged  in  American  manufacture  shows  it  is  wise  policy  ; 
it  has  become  our  economy  to  purchase  our  articles  at 
cheaper  prices.  There  is  not  room  for  all  England's  inven 
tions  ;  we  claim  some  credit  for  the  genius  of  New  England 
sons — her  inventions.,  her  improvements. 

If  the  acts  of  these  persons  manufacturing  cotempo- 
raneously  with  them  were  injurious  to  their  traffic,  the 
cause  of  this  diminution  of  their  trade  is  long  as  time,  vo 
luminous  as  the  world. 

The  wondrous  changes  in  the  price  of  cotton  and  other 
things,  make  the  ivorld  tremble.  England's  heart-pulse 
beats  quicker  ;  her  eagle  eye  grows  sharper.  She  gazes 
discriminatingly  on  our  growing  business,  and.  grudges  us 
every  well  turned  dollar  from  our  mint.  But  new  light 
flashes  out  from  the  Empire  City — the  great  business  mart 
of  our  republic — the  pride  of  our  land  ; — it  dims  their 
English  vision. 


These  plaintiffs  ruined  their  own  reputation  by  making 
poorer  thread  ;  abusing  the  wide-spread  confidence  they 
had  attained  in  the  community,  in  this  world  of  ours. 
Theirs  had  become  notoriously  poor.  But  ours  is  a  vast 
advance.  Look  at  our  thread  !  Beautiful !  new  !  What 
novice  country  girl  would  not  rather  use  a  new  thread  of 
her  own  husband's  manufacture  ?  It  is  the  genius  of 
spirit  that  inspires  them  with  new  zeal,  and  this  new  arti 
cle  never  injured  any  one.  Goodness  is  not  productive  of 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  369 

evil.  Every  thing  has  its  day.  "  Every  dog  has  its  clay." 
This  has  had  its  day  ;  new  plants  spring  up  and  overshadow 
the  old.  This  is  the  law  of  nature — the  law  of  our  being  ! 

This  defendant  is  not  to  be  borne  down  with  the  sins 
of  all  the  impostors  of  the  day.  We  are  not  the  scape 
goats  of  crime  ;  we  come  up  to  meet  the  charge,  as  soldiers 
come  up  to  battle,  with  stout  hearts,  and  souls  of  vigor, 
honesty,  and  good  faith.  Let  them  charge  home  their 
bayonets  ;  and  the  verdict  will  be  ours,  or  at  any  rate  one 
of  lenity. 

This  thing  is  brought  up  so  strenuously — so  contin 
uously  !  Let  it  not  fill  up  your  whole  eye,  as  a  small 
acorn  brought  close  to  the  vision  will  hide  the  whole  eye, 
and  hide  a  whole  forest  of  the  fairest  hopes.  The  to  be  is 
to  be  proved  ;  that  he  conspired  to  defraud  these  men  of 
gold,  of  fortunes, — men  with  long-stringed  purses  of  their 
rights. 

I  tell  you,  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  the  reputation  of 
the  defendant's  counsel  (himself)  is  much  better  than  the 
thread  of  their  client. 

This  is  a  commercial  article,  and  a  captivating  one  ; 
offering  it  at  a  lower  price,  and  getting  the  good  will  of  a 
trade,  it  holds  the  customer.  The  world  goes  along  elbow 
ing,  and  every  man  elbows  his  own  articles  into  the  mar 
kets.  If  a  man's  article  is  a  good  one,  it  will  pay  him  at 
home ;  in  the  same  way  as  a  good  book  or  painting  will 
render  profit  enough,  without  extending  the  traffic  to  a 
foreign  market. 

They,  the  plaintiffs,  are  to  prove  that  the  extent  of 
damages  were  more  than  nominal,  in  order  that  they 

16* 


370   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

should  have  just  cause  to  bring  this  action  ;  that  it  is  not 
due  to  holding  their  thread  at  higher  prices,  and  at  a  ruin 
ous  loss  to  the  purchaser. 

I  leave  the  cause  for  the  present  in  your  hands.  Gentle 
men  of  the  jury  ;  but  it  will  be  considered  more  ably  here 
after  by  the  eloquent  advocate  who  is  to  precede  me  in 
closing  this  long  and  fatiguing  case.  It  is  of  great  impor 
tance  to  this  man  ;  it  is  one  which,  will  result  either  to  his 
permanent  advantage  or  injury.  With  this  idea  upper 
most  in  your  mind,  and  in  accordance  with  the  law  and 
evidence,  you  will  shape  your  final  verdict.  We  shall  now 
submit  to  the  consideration  of  your  mind  the  testimony  of 
the  defendant. 

But  remember,  this  man  made  the  best  article  he 
could,  and  sold  it  as  his  own  manufacture  :  no  fraud,  no 
imposition  was  practiced  by  him.  However  gross  the 
fraud  may  have  been  by  his  agents  in  disposition  of  the 
article,  he  is  not  accountable  for  this  ;  they  are  liable  for 
their  own  acts  of  wrong,  and  they  can  not  be  imposed 
upon  this  man,  if  the  justice  due  to  him  is  rightly  admin 
istered,  and  equity  takes  its  serene  course. 

Kemember,  also,  that  the  improvements,  the  invention, 
the  progress  of  civilization,  are  a  great  incentive  for  men 
to  develope  the  powers  of  their  minds,  in  rivaling  others 
who  bring  before  the  public  the  product  of  their  persever 
ing  labors  and  untiring  industry.  So  "  wags"  the  business 
world.  Ambition,  the  love  of  gain,  the  regard  for  wealth, 
is  another  new  impetus  to  action,  and  urges  men  on  to  the 
work.  Others  do  the  like  acts,  and  not  at  the  expense  of 
reputation  or  the  profit  accruing  from  their  exertion. 

Such  never  was  the  case.  Such,  I  hope  and  trust, 
never  will  be  the  case  in  this  land,  or  in  any  other  mer 
cantile  country  on  earth. 


REMINISCENCES     OF      RUFUS     CHOATE.  371 

POWER     LOOM     PATENT. 

This  was  a  case  where  an  alleged  improvement  was 
complained  of  as  an  infringement.  Only  a  single  sentence 
— single  but  striking — of  Mr.  Choate's  argument  for  the 
defendant  survives  ;  this  I  happened  to  write  down. 

Speaking  of  a  witness,  he  said, 

His  expressions  are  somewhat  vague,  but  they  are  to  be 
construed  as  the  common  speech  of  the  land  ;  the  man 
was  speaking  the  language  of  the  land. 

Does  this  inventor,  the  plaintiff,  think  to  monopolize 
power  looms  for  the  rest  of  his  life  ?  Centuries  have  been 
consumed  and  nations  employed  in  perfecting  this  loom, 
and  because  this  inventor  has  taken  one  step  in  its  progress 
is  he  to  have  the  whole  as  his  own  ?  No,  gentlemen  ! 
Whatever  his  inventive  power,  he  didn't  come  early  enough 
into  the  world  for  that  ! 

>N    FOR   A   RAILRO. 
FORE    A    COMMITTEE    OF    THE    LEGISLATURE. 

In  this  case  the  whole  argument  of  Mr.  Choate  in  sup 
port  of  the  petition  is  preserved.  Extracts  are  here  given 
sufficient  to  illustrate  the  whole  scope  and  force  of  his  ar 
gument,  and  the  glow  of  his  rhetoric,  even  upon  these  worn 
and  threadbare  themes.  The  Committee  having  been  called 
to  order  by  the  Chairman,  Mr.  Choate  said  : 

Mr.  Chairman  :  This  application  is  felt  to  be  one  of 
very  great  importance  by  that  considerable  portion  of  the 
community  who  have  presented  it,  and  the  case  before  you 
very  well  entitles  itself  to  be  dispassionately  considered 
and  wisely  disposed  of. 

Not  having  the  honor  to  be  one,  either  of  the  Commit 
tee  or  the  Legislature,  I  feel  very  sensibly  the  delicacies  of 


37-!          REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE. 

attempting  to  assist  you  and  your  colleagues  in  the  dis 
charge  of  your  duties.  But  it  lias  been  the  immemorial 
practice  to  admit  counsel  before  committees,  and  I  shall 
aim,  therefore,  to  perform  the  duty  now  devolving  on  me 
with  the  same  zeal  and  frankness  that  I  should  use  in  other 
Courts  lower  than  this — the  highest  of  all.  And  if,  as  may 
perhaps  happen,  from  friendship  to  the  petitioners,  from  a 
strong  conviction  of  the  merits  of  their  case,  or  from  what 
ever  cause,  I  may  pass  beyond  the  limits  of  entire  accuracy 
in  the  statement  of  the  facts  or  the  conclusions  from  them, 
I  am  sure  the  Committee  will  be  as  indulgent  to  excuse  as 
they  will  be  prompt  to  detect  it. 

And  first,  let  us  go  back  to  the  origin  of  this  applica 
tion.  It  does  not  spring,  as  argued  by  the  other  side,  from 
any  speculative  railroad  mania  of  to-day  or  yesterday  ;  it 
is  not  asked  for  to  supersede  any  other  road,  old  or  recent. 
If  some  think  to  trace  it  to  any  so  small  policies,  they  are 
mistaken.  Such  is  not  its  ground.  It  had  its  origin  many 
years  back — as  far  almost  as  the  birth  of  the  railroad  sys 
tem.  The  great  public  wants,  in  1836,  succeeded  in  pro 
curing  the  charter  of  the  Eastern  Kailroad,  the  lower  route, 
but  the  same  parties  now  represented  by  the  petitioners 
were  here  then.  They  come  now  with  the  added  growth, 
the  added  experience,  the  added  inconveniences  of  ten  years 
more,  but  they  were  here  then,  and  have  been  still  here. 
In  all  previous  stages  of  the  great  legislative  deliberation, 
anterior  to  the  actual  grant  of  that  charter,  it  was  a  mat 
ter  of  sharp  and  serious  doubt,  in  the  public  mind,  what 
line  should  be  adopted  between  Beverly  and  Boston.  As 
long  ago  as  then  was  this  sharp  conflict  and  grave  doubt 
between  the  lower  and  the  interior  route.  The  petitioners 
were  not  inattentive  to  their  own  interests  at  that  time. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C  HO  ATE.  373 

Danvers,  full  of  energy,  of  capital — the  capital  of  mid 
dling  men — that  species  of  prosperity  commanding  more 
than  all  others  the  favor  of  government,  full  of  industry, 
ever  true  to  her  duties,  from  the  time  she  sent  her  sons  to 
the  "battle-field  of  Lexington  to  the  day  when  she  appro 
priated  her  last  dollar  for  the  education  of  the  poor — Dan 
vers  was  here  then.  Lynn,  that  vast  beehive  of  work-shops 
of  Essex,  was  here  then.  Saugus,  of  which  the  learned 
counsel  has  spoken  in  so  condescending  and  contemptuous 
terms,  was  here  then. 

Unfortunately  they  were  obliged  then  to  combine  on  a 
much  more  unfavorable  route  than  they  are  now  enabled 
to  offer,  terminating  on  a  ferry  perhaps  even  worse  than 
that  of  the  remonstrants  themselves  ;  but  with  all  that,  it 
was  better  than  the  present  road.  And  now,  when  their 
route  has  the  vast  merit  of  offering  a  speedier,  surer  and 
safer  conveyance  to  Boston — avoiding  a  ferry  altogether — • 
they  come  again  to  apply  for  their-  old  and  favorite  line, 
and  they  will  persist  in  the  movement,  which,  springing 
out  of  the  unalterable  nature  of  things,  must  from  very 
justice  be  granted  at  last.  They  originally  urged  that 
the  lower  route,  the  then  line  from  the  south  side  of  Sa 
lem,  creeping  across  a  desert,  plunging  through  a  marsh, 
arriving  at  deep  water  at  East  Boston,  where  the  ferry 
boat  was  exposed  to  all  the  detention  of  fog,  ice,  and  other 
impediments,  and  leaving  at  last  the  disconsolate  passen 
gers  in  an  inconvenient  terminus,  far  removed  from  the 
business  and  inhabited  part  of  the  town,  they  urged  that 
such  a  railroad  deserted  and  abandoned  their  peculiar  in 
terests,  and  was  no  railroad  for  them.  They  denounced  it 
accordingly,  and  fully  and  fairly  gave  notice  that  they  should 
not  cease  to  apply  for  relief  to  the  Legislature. 

The  road  has  been  tried,  and  fully  tried  for  ten  years. 


374      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E . 

and  these  same  parties  are  here  again  for  relief.  I  speak 
of  these  things  to  show  that  this  is  not  a  temporary  move 
ment,  but  that  it  springs  from  the  reality  and  nature  of 
things,  and  that  it  confidently  awaits  the  action  of  the 
government. 

It  was  an  easy  thing  in  1836  to  meet  our  arguments  by 
small  jests  and  bold  promises.  It  was  easy  to  tell  the 
Legislature  that  the  business  and  resources  of  the  road 
would  draw  into  use  the  ingenuity  and  experience  of  the 
skillful  and  inventive,  so  that  ferry  boats  would  soon  be 
constructed  with  rail  tracks  on  board,  easily  able  to  convey 
a  train  of  cars  from  one  side  to  the  other.  But  who  has 
lived  to  see  this  ?  We  have  indeed  seen  some  two  hundred 
men,  women,  and  children  crossing  in  fog  and  obscurity, 
steering  by  compass,  like  Columbus  in  his  caraval,  uncer 
tain  what  land  they  should  make,  but  nothing  like  this. 
It  was  far  easier  thus  to  talk  than  fairly  to  answer  our  ar 
guments  or  meet  our  case,  and  this  accordingly  was  the 
course  pursued.  The  small  laugh  was  raised,  the  stupen 
dous  blunder  was  committed,  and  the  Eastern  Railroad  was 
chartered  on  its  present  route. 

Now,  sir,  who  are  the  parties  to  the  application  before 
you  ?  On  the  one  hand  the  public,  that  is,  those  who  are, 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  law  and  of  reason,  the  public; 
and  on  the  other  hand  some  small  private  interest. 

Grod  forbid  that  I  should  stand  here  and  ask  you  to  vio 
late  one  single  private  right,  though  of  no  higher  value 
than  a  blade  of  perished  grass.  No,  sir,  no.  And  even 
were  any  one  so  to  do,  I  well  know  what  would,  and  ought 
to  be  your  decision.  But  this  is  no  such  case.  It  is  the 
ordinary  case,  simply,  of  the  many  against  the  few.  The 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.       375 

'great  interest  of  the  great  public,  against  a  minuter  inter 
est  of  a  small  portion  of  that  public.  Interests  only,  not 
rights,  are  concerned.  Here  are  four  large  towns,  with 
25,000  inhabitants — two  represented  by  a  corporate  vote, 
and  the  others  by  the  signatures  of  a  large  majority  of  their 
legal  voters.  Salem,  stung  by  the  very  taunt  of  the  other 
side,  sends  to-day  650.  There  are,  too,  from  1,000  to 
1,200  of  the  women  of  Essex — our  mothers,  daughters, 
sisters  and  wives — who  ask  us  for  the  removal  of  an  offen 
sive  and  shameful  annoyance,  to  which  they  are  subjected 
on  every  journey  they  make  to  the  metropolis. 

Danvers,  the  original  petitioning  town,  is  the  third  in 
Essex  county  for  the  vote  she  throws  and  the  capital  she 
wields.  She  is  a  larger  manufacturer  of  leather  than  any 
other  town,  and  manufactures  also  great  quantities  of  wool, 
iron  and  glue.  Besides  all  this,  her  agricultural  capacities 
are  sufficient,  if  aided  and  encouraged  by  legislation,  to 
make  her  one  vast  garden,  or  rather  a  vast  series  of  gar 
dens,  for  the  supply  of  the  market  of  Boston.  She  is  be 
fore  you,  a  petitioner  for  railroad  accommodation. 

Lynn,  too,  is  here  by  a  series  of  admirable  and  powerful 
resolutions,  to  which  I  will  ask  the  attention  of  the  com 
mittee.  (Mr.  Choate  here  read  the  resolutions.) 

Such  is  the  voice  of  Lynn,  presented  and  supported  by 
the  men  she  most  delights  to  honor — her  selectmen — her 
Hoods,  Webster,  Breeds,  and  others. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  number  of  petitioners 
from  Maiden  and  Saugus,  and  other  towns,  whose  names 
are  before  you. 

But  our  learned  friends  laugh  at  all  this,  and  say  that 
nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  procure  as  many  names  as 
you  please  to  any  petition.  If  this  be  so,  I  wonder,  then, 
why  they  have  not  employed  more  pens  in  their  own  be- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     BTJFUS     C II  GATE. 

half.  Why,  sir,  in  the  face  of  this  overwhelming  evidence 
of  public  opinion,  not  one  human  being — man,  woman,  or 
child — not  one  interest  even,  but  just  the  Eastern  Railroad 
corporation — appears  to  remonstrate  against  this  petition. 
It  is  the  traveling  public  on  one  side,  and  the  men  who  live 
by  selling  traveling  accommodations  on  the  other — and  that 
is  just  all. 

But  this  particular  demand  may  be  unreasonable.  Let 
us  look,  therefore,  a  little  further  into  the  details  of  the 
case,  in  its  simplest  and  narrowest  aspects.  I  say,  then  : 

1st.  That  these  petitioners,  or  a  large  mass  of  them,  are- 
entitled  to  increased  facilities  of  railroad  transportation — 
on  every  principle  of  policy  which  can  be  sustained,  and  by 
every  particle  of  evidence  offered — by  branching  out,  either 
to  one  or  the  other  of  the  eastern  roads  : — and, 

2d.  That,  by  permitting  them  to  make  their  branch  to 
the  upper  road,  the  great  aggregate  of  public  good  and 
public  accommodation  will  be  vastly  more  promoted  than 
by  compelling  them  to  resort  to  the  lower. 

Upon  the  first  proposition,  that  the  parties  are  entitled 
to  increased  accommodation,  there  will  be  no  occasion  to 
detain  the  Committee  long.  The  fact  is  perfectly  clear,  and 
no  longer  open  to  controversy.  Danvers,  by  the  concession 
of  everybody,  on  every  principle  that  the  Legislature  ever 
gave  or  withheld  a  charter,  is  entitled  to  it. 

But  the  counsel  says  that  Danvers  is  very  near  to  Sa 
lem.  Yes,  sir,  she  is  the  adjoining  town.  Her  people  are 
just  near  enough  to  hear  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive,  and 
to  gaze  at  the  sparks  of  that  flying  giant — to  them  as  our 
selves,  for  all  practical  purposes,  as  are  the  falling  meteors 
in  the  midnight  firmament  ?  Mr.  Chairman,  this  is  a  sin 
and  a  shame.  And  so 'we  hear  it  said  on  every  side,  by 


REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE.   3/7 

every  committee  and  every  counsel,  excepting  only  the 
counsel  here. 

But  we  shall  have  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  the  ad 
vantages  of  this  road  if  we  regard  it  merely  as  a  means  of 
facilitating  transportation  to  and  from  the  city. 

That  is  not  all  it  will  accomplish.  For  the  towns  of 
Saugus,  Lynn  and  Danvers,  and  Lynn,  in  particular,  abound 
in  numerous  beautiful  sites,  which  promise  to  become, 
through  its  agency,  most  eligible  residences  for  jJersons  of 
moderate  means  who  do  business  in  town.  Grant  this 
charter,  and  these  situations  will  be  purchased,  built  upon, 
and  soon  show  forth  as  the  happy  abodes  of  civilized  life. 
Is  all  this  nothing  ?  Is  there,  in  the  estimation  of  my 
"learned  friend,  who  has  acquired  a  reputation  so  enviable 
through  his  able  assistance  to  the  cause  of  railroad  progress, 
and  who,  I  am  sorry  to  see,  so  forgetful  of  that  reputation 
as  to  appear  against  my  clients  here — is  there  no  use  in  a 
railroad  but  to  precipitate  the  traveler  from  the  country 
into  the  city,  at  top  speed,  and  ejaculate  him  out  again  as 
soon  as  his  business  is  completed  ?  Are  there  no  moral 
influences  in  railroads  ?  Is  it  nothing  that  they  afford  the 
business  man,  whose  six  months  in  every  year  are  passed 
amidst  the  crowd,  dust  and  turmoil  of  the  noisy  streets  of 
town,  the  opportunity  to  pass  the  other  six  in  the  bosom 
of  a  happy  family,  at  a  quiet  and  secluded  country  seat  ? 
That  they  give  the  pale  and  wan  denizen  of  the  noisy 
workshop  and  dingy  counting-house  the  means  of  invig- 
oration  and  health,  from  the  breezes  of  the  country  hills, 
without  detriment  to  his  worldly  prospects  or  the  sacrifice 
of  valuable  time  ?  That  they  cause  the  capital  of  the  city 
to  flow  into  the  country  through  ten  thousand  streams, 
beautifying  and  fertilizing  the  whole  land  ?  Sir,  I  entirely 


378   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

agree  with  the  writer  in  the  Westminster  JReview,  already 
quoted  on  each  side,  that  these  moral  and  social  influences 
of  railroads  are  the  considerations  which  most  entitle  them 
to  favor. 

The  new  road  may  indeed  take  a  twentieth,  a  sixteenth, 
a  quarter  per  cent,  from  the  value  of  the  Eastern  Kailroad 
stocks  ;  but  if,  through  its  means,  one  hundred,  fifty,  twenty, 
aye,  ten  healthy  children,  are  raised  to  manhood  and  woman 
hood,  the  Kepublic  will  be  the  gainer. 

Therefore,  I  say,  our  right  to  additional  railroad  accom 
modations  is  fully  established.  Then,  how  shall  we  have 
them  ? 

Prima  f route,  Sir,  it  would  seem  to  be  the  inclination 
of  a  just  and  parental  government,  to  give  its  citizens  the' 
accommodation  they  seek  in  the  way  they  seek  it,  if  that 
mode  be  not  unjust  or  capricious.  Now,  gentlemen,  here 
are  Danvers,  Saugus  and  West  Lynn,  who  have  appeared 
before  you  and  made  out  a  clear  case  of  the  necessity  of 
some  additional  accommodation.  The  case  is  just  as  good 
for  the  particular  accommodation  they  ask,  as  for  any.  The 
petitioners  feel  profoundly  and  keenly  that  they  shall  be 
greatly  better  satisfied  with  the  accommodation  in  the 
mode  they  ask  for — with  being  treated  like  men — free 
agents,  allowed  to  assist  themselves  and  develop  their  own 
internal  industry — than  with  being  compelled  to  content 
themselves  with  what  the  Eastern  road  may  choose  to  give 
them,  and  walk  only  in  the  path  which  the  Eastern  Cor 
poration  may  prescribe.  And  again  I  would  remark,  with 
out  intending  to  be  and  hoping  not  to  appear  importunate 
in  the  least,  that  a  just  and  parental  government,  if  it 
properly  can  do  so,  will  grant  the  accommodation  it  affords 
in  the  way  in  which  it  is  sought.  Good  nature  dictates  so 


REMINISCENCES  OF   RUFUS  CHOATE.    379 

much.  A  just  and  sound  policy  dictates  it.  If  a  little  fa 
cility  be  granted  to  us,  but  not  the  facility  we  desire,  it 
would  seem  to  be  next  to  refusing  it  altogether.  Cer 
tainly  the  father  who,  being  asked  for  a  fish,  gave  his  son 
a  serpent,  was  the  harder  of  the  two  ;  but  that  other 
father  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  shown  a  parental  and 
kindly  disposition,  who,  being  asked  for  bread,  choked  his 
child  to  death  with  fish. 

There  is  one  most  desperate  after- thought  presented  by 
the  remonstrants,  and  that  is,  that  no  more  parallel  or 
competing  lines,  as  they  call  them,  should  be  chartered  to 
any  point  of  the  compass.  There  being  already,  in  other 
words,  established  railroads,  towards  the  north,  south,  east 
and  west — great  roads,  if  you  please,  and  we  will  allow  so 
much, — the  position  is  taken  that  all  additional  accommo 
dation  is  to  be  had  only  by  branches  from  these  great 
roads,  perpendicular  or  diagonal,  to  the  communities  to  be 
favored.  And  this  enormous  heresy  is  carried  yet  one  step 
further  ;  and  that  is,  that  nobody,  except  these  main  cor 
porations,  has  any  right  to  construct  branches  at  all.  The 
branches,  if  constructed  at  all,  are  to  be  built  only  by  great 
routes.  If  this  be  really  so,  then  it  becomes  a  question  of 
extreme  interest  to  all  inter-lying  _ populations  to  know  to 
which  road  they  belong  ;  "  Under  which  king,  Bezonian, 
speak  or  die  !"  Who  owns  us  ?  Who  is  to  make  our 
branch  ?  These  will  be  the  questions. 

Gentlemen,  I  pray  your  attention  here  to  the  specious 
plausibilities  which  make  up  the  whole  case  of  these  re 
monstrants. 

But,  gentlemen,  giving  all  that  to  the  winds,  by  grant 
ing  the  charter  we  ask  you  will  more  promote  the  various 
nnd  considerable  aggregate  of  public  accommodation,  than 


380          REMINISCENCES     OF     RTJFUS     CHOATE. 

if  you  compel  us  to  be  dependent  on  the  road  of  the  re 
monstrants.  Because  you  will  enable  travelers  to  avoid  a 
nuisance.,  and  to  gain  in  speed  :  and  you  will  afford  rail 
road  facilities  to  thousands  of  people;  and  large  quantities 
of  merchandise,  of  which  they  are  now  wholly  deprived, 
and  will  continue  wholly  deprived,  even  if  the  Eastern 
road  builds  its  so-much-talked-of  branch.  By  building 
the  new  road  we  offer  the  people  a  communication  with  the 
city,  over  a  secure,  substantial,  permanent  bridge,  instead 
of  compelling  them  to  take  the  chance  of  swimming,  and 
the  risk  of  sinking  in  a  ferry  boat.  I  do  not  fear  to  discuss 
the  comparative  merits  of  a  bridge  and  a  ferry  with  the  in 
genious  and  eloquent  counsel  for  the  remonstrants.  And 
I  can  not,  in  the  outset,  blame  at  all  the  Eastern  Company 
for  striving  to  make  the  best  of  their  case.  Their  route 
has  been  fastened  on  them.  The  blunder  has  been  made. 
The  past  is  incurable.  The  necessity  of  steering  by  com 
pass  and  the  sound  of  the  fog-bell,  is  upon  them,  and  they 
can  not  avoid  it  or  get  rid  of  it.  They  do  right  to  defend 
themselves,  and  nobody  can  blame  the  pretty,  poetical 
little  fancies  in  which  they  indulge.  "What  can't  be 
cured  must  be  endured  ;"  and  I  will  do  the  whole  body  the 
justice  to  say  that  they  have  gone  to  the  very  verge  of 
veracity  in  making  their  defense.  But,  Sir,  "  de  gustibus 
non  est  disputandum."  The  learned,  though  somewhat 
fanciful  gentleman,  has  eloquently  set  forth  the  delight 
which  must  be  felt  by  all,  in  catching  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  the  harbor  as  they  cross  in  the  boat.  As  if 
the  business  people  of  Danvers,  Lynn  or  Saugus,  would 
care  to  stop,  or  think  of  stopping  to  gaze  upon  the  thread 
bare  and  monotonous  beauties  of  Boston  harbor,  when 
hurrying  to  transact  their  affairs.  Unfortunately,  too, 
for  the  gentleman's  case,  in  this  respect,  it  so  happens  that 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   381 

these  same  people  have  compelled  this  company  to  arch 
their  boat  all  over,,  and  wall  it  up  all  round,  so  that 
nothing  at  all  can  be  seen.  Then  the  delight  of  meeting 
and  shaking  hands  with  an  old  friend  !  Conceive,  gentle 
men,  the  pastoral,  touching,  pathetic  picture  of  two  Salem 
gentlemen,  who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  seeing  each  other 
a  dozen  times  a  clay  for  the  last  twenty-five  years,  almost 
rushing  into  each  other's  arms  on  board  the  ferry  boat — 
what  transport !  We  can  only  regret  that  such  felicity 
should  be  so  soon  broken  up  by  the  necessity  of  running  a 
race  against  time,  or  fighting  with  each  other  for  a  seat  in 
the  cars. 

They  urge,  however,  that  the  passage  is  short,  only 
eight  or  ten  minutes — an  average  of  nine  by  "  Shrewsbury 
clock."  I  regret,  too,  that  these  minutes  are  so  rmich  less 
profitably  employed  by  our  friends,  than  by  gaining  three 
miles  of  start  on  our  railroad;  And  they  agree  that  the 
average  of  detention,  over  this  nine  or  ten  minutes,  has 
only  been  four  seconds.  What  does  that  profit  to  him 
who  has  been  delayed  six  hours  ?  Or  to  him  who  has 
lost  the  opportunity  to  pay  his  note  at  the  bank  by  ten 
minutes  ?  Or  to  him  who  stands,  for  hours,  at  the  slip, 
and  sees  his  wife  or  sister  tossing  about  in  the  ice  within 
six  feet  of  him  ?  Why,  Sir,  you  might  as  well  go  to  the 
soldier,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle,  and  say  to  him,  "  You 
will  be  killed,  I  dare  say  ;  but  consider  that  your  death  is 
an  average  of  only  one  good  scratch  a  piece  distributed 
among  your  regiment  ?"  Will  he  thank  you  for  such 
consolation  ?  I  rather  suspect  not. 

That  gentleman  shows  that  the  corporation  have  tried 
every  expedient,  and  taken  every  measure  to  remedy  all 
inconvenience.  I  agree  with  him,  and  will  take  his  own 
argument  to  prove  that  the  evil  is  permanent  and  incurable. 


382      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE. 

Mr.  Chairman  :  In  approaching  the  close  of  the  re 
marks  with  which  I  have  to  trouble  the  Committee  in  this 
case,  I  beg  leave  to  present,  in  a  condensed  view,  the  points 
on  which  the  petitioners  rely. 

That  increased  railroad  accommodation  is  due  to  Dan- 
vers,  Lynn  and  Saugus,  is  not  only  proved,  but  not  denied. 

That  of  the  alleged  two  methods  of  securing  such  ac 
commodation,  by  a  branch  from  Danvers  to  the  upper  or 
to  the  lower  route,  that  which  we  propose  is  decidedly 
favored  by  the  whole  public,  while  it  is  opposed  only  b^ 
the  private  interests  of  the  Eastern  Railroad  Corporation. 

That  to  more  than  110,000  passengers  per  year,  our 
road  will  afford  a  passage  to  Boston  by  land,  avoiding  all 
ferries,  and  in  all  respects,  speedy,  safe,  secure,  comfortable 
and  agreeable. 

That  it  will  give  accommodation  and  railroad  trans 
portation  to  30, 000- tons  of  merchandise  now  deprived  of 
such  advantages. 

That  it  will  accommodate  the  trade  of  Danvers,  Mar- 
blehead,  Lynn  and  Saugus,  which  the  present  road  does 
not. 

That  it  will  greatly  aid  and  increase  the  trade  and  pro 
ductions  of  Essex  county,  in  various  respects — especially 
as  regards  granite,  ice,  bricks  and  fish — while  the  Eastern 
route  and  its  branches  can  do  nothing  towards  this  purpose. 

That  it  has  a  much  more  central  and  convenient  ter 
minus  in  the  city  of  Boston  than  the  Eastern  road. 

That  it  will  afford  to  the  town  of  Saugus  railroad  ac 
commodation  never  yet  enjoyed — to  West  Lynn  greatly 
enlarged  accommodation  ;  and  that  it  will,  in  both  towns, 
materially  increase  the  value  of  now  unoccupied  lands. 

In  this  aspect,  sir,  which  I  conceive  to  be  clearly  estab 
lished  throughout,  I  take  it  there  is  no  room  for  delibera- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.          383 

tion  at  all,  unless  the  Committee  are  satisfied  that  we  are, 
body  and  soul,  the  property  of  the  Eastern  Kailroad  Cor 
poration,  and  belong  to  them  exclusively.  It  is  possible 
that  the  grant  of  our  petition  might  interfere  with  the 
pecuniary  advantages  of  the  stockholders  of  the  Eastern 
road  ;  that  it  might  detract  one,  two,  three,  four  or  five 
per  cent.,  as  the  case  may  be,  from  their  annual  profits. 
But  of  what  account  is  that  when  we  consider  how  much 
it  will  add  to  the  convenience,  time,  comfort,  health  and 
life  of  the  45,000  passengers  from  Danvers  and  the  many 
other  thousands  along  the  line  ?  That  it  should  take  a 
half  per  cent,  or  three  per  cent,  from  the  profits  of  the 
Eastern  stockholders,  I  regret  as  much  as  my  learned 
friend.  But  I  put  against  this  private  loss  the  increase  in 
the  value  of  every  pound  of  leather  and  glue,  every  ton  of 
iron,  granite  and  ice,  to  the  public  at  large.  We  may  per 
haps  diminish  the  wealth  of  a  few  hundred  individuals,  by 
a  small  amount,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  we  stimulate  the 
industry,  quicken  the  labor,  and  develop  the  resources  of 
thousands  upon  thousands.  Look  upon  "this  picture  and 
on  this,"  and  then  decide  the  question  on  rational  grounds. 

But  my  learned  brother,  whose  extensive  and  well- 
earned  reputation  mainly  rests  upon  his  successful  exer 
tions  in  favor  of  just  such  lines  as  that  we  now  ask  for, 
can  not  have  meant  to  deny  the  general  benefit  to  the 
public  resulting  from  the  principle  of  competition  itself. 
Why,  sir,  primaf route,  competition  is  the  life  of  trade  and 
the  great  promoter  of  public  good.  It  may,  perhaps,  some 
times  be  otherwise  in  railway  experience,  for  circumstances 
alter  cases.  But  the  result  of  the  whole  history  of  English 
experience,  on  this  subject,  is,  that  competition  among  rail 
roads  has  done  no  harm  whatever,  except,  in  some  cases, 


384          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

to  slightly  raise  the  fares.  There  are  no  deserted  tracks 
from  this  cause  ;  there  has  not  been  a  pin's  worth  of  dam 
age  to  the  hair  of  a  man's  head.  In  some  cases,  it  is  true, 
competing  lines  have  become  united  under  one  corporation, 
and  fares  have  been  somewhat  increased  ;  but  the  general, 
grand  result,  has  been  the  establishment  of  a  system  of 
railway  communication,  the  like  of  which  the  sun  has  never 
looked  upon.  And  if  this  evil  be  apprehended,  what  can 
be  easier  than  for  the  Legislature  to  fix  the  maximum  of 
fares  which  shall  be  charged  ?  In  truth,  Mr.  Chairman, 
all  the  arguments  of  my  learned  brother,  respecting  com 
petition,  are  entirely  unworthy  of  him,  and — were  they 
from  any  other  source — unworthy  of  serious  notice.  Why, 
sir,  our  State  map  beams  and  sparkles,  like  the  firmament, 
with  competing  lines. 

And  I  join  issue  with  my  brother,  in  his  statement  that 
it  would  be  bad  policy  in  the  State  to  grant  this  charter. 
Bad  policy  to  meet  a  popular  demand  by  a  legislative  sup 
ply'?  We  have  shown  that  railroads  were  made  for  the 
people,  as  the  Sabbath  is  made  for  man,  not  the  people  for 
the  railroads  ;  and  I  will  only  say — replying  to  the  gentle 
man — that  the  bad  policy  would  lie  in  refusing  this  appli 
cation.  If  the  people  shall  see,  in  a  case  like  this,  that  the 
government  disregard  the  rights  of  twenty-five  thousand 
inhabitants,  having  occasion  to  send  and  receive  30,000 
tons  of  merchandise  per  annum,  from  the  apprehension  of 
a  contingent  effect  on  existing  railroad  stock — then,  sir, 
the  days  of  that  administration  which  sustains  such  a 
policy,  are  numbered.  The  inscription  is  written,  "  Mene, 
Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin  !" 

Sir,  I  know  the  people  of  Danvers,  and  I  owe  them 
much.  I  judge  of  the  rest  of  the  citizens  of  Massachu- 


11  E  M  1  :>'  1  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF     U  U  F  U  S     OHO  A  T  j;  . 

setts  by  them,  and  so  judging,  I  know  them  to  be  honest, 
just,  and  ready  to  sacrifice  the  last  drop  in  their  veins 
rather  than  infringe  the  legal  rights  of  any  individual. 
And  I  am  entirely  satisfied  that  such  a  people  will  not  bo 
called  on  to  see  it  declared  through  their  representatives 
in  the  Legislature,  that  the  servant  is  greater  than  his  mas 
ter  ;  particularly  when  the  servant  is  a  private  corporation, 
however  respectable,  and  in  other  respects  however  gen 
erous  ;  and  that  master  the  whole  public. 

"For  this  is  not  the  liberty  which  we  can  hope,  that  no 
grievance  ever  should  rise  in  the  Commonwealth  ;  that  let 
110  man  in  this  world  expect ;  but  when  complaints  are 
freely  heard,  deeply  considered,  and  speedily  reformed, 
then  is  the  utmost  bound  of  civil  liberty  attained  that  wise 
men  look  for." 

THE   OLIVER   SMITH   WILL    CASE. 

This  case  attracted  very  great  interest  in  its  day,  from 
the  magnitude  of  the  property  involved  and  the  celebrity  of 
the  counsel  employed — Mr.  Webster  for  the  will,  and  Mr. 
Choate  against  it.  It  was  argued  in  July,  1847.  The  will 
of  Oliver  Smith  was  disputed,  and  the  whole  case  turned  on 
its  attestation.  One  of  the  witnesses  to  the  will  was  T.  P. 
Phelps.  It  was  alleged  that  at  the  time  of  making  his 
signature  upon  the  instrument  he  was  insane.  He  ap 
peared  upon  the  witness'  stand,  and  was  subjected  to  a 
long  direct  and  cross-examination.  The  evidence  being  all 
in,  on  a  Thursday  morning,  in  a  court  house  crowded  with 
people,  very  many  ladies  being  present,  Mr.  Choate  spoke 
for  three  hours.  An  abstract  of  the  argument  was  re 
ported,  and  from  one  of  the  few  copies  still  extant  I  make 
the  following  extracts.  Although  the  abstract  loses  much 

17 


386         IlEMINISCENCES     OF      It  U  F  U  8     C  H  O  A  T  E . 

of  the  force  and  fire  of  the  rhetoric,  it  preserves  the  strength 
of  the  argument. 

Mr.  Choate  began  by  remarking  to  the  jury ; — The 
heirs  at  law  of  Oliver  Smith,  the  children  of  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  have  brought  this  case  before  you,  under  the 
full  conviction  that  the  instrument  here  offered  for  pro 
bate  ought  not  to  deprive  them  of  their  inheritance.  It  is 
not  surprising  that  they  have  come  hither  in  confidence 
that  you  will  thoroughly  investigate  their  claims,  and 
equitably  adjust  them.  Ever  ready  and  offering  to  make 
a  compromise  with  the  legatees,  yet  not  willing  that  this 
whole  estate  should  pass  from  the  name  and  family  of  the 
testator,  by  the  mere  forms  of  law,  and  against  its  spirit. 
They  are  not  distant  heirs,  coming  from  a  far-off  country 
to  claim  this  estate.  But  they  were  near,  and  once  dear 
to  the  testator.  They  dwelt  around  him,  rendering  those 
nameless  kind  offices  which  ministered  to  his  comfort. 

To  a  valid  Will  the  law  gives  absolute  effect ;  and  if  the 
testator  has  complied  with  the  forms  of  law,  the  will 
must  be  executed,  however  absurd  or  unnatural  its  pro 
visions  may  be.  Surely  such  a  will  as  this  could  never 
have  been  anticipated  ;  it  was  not  to  be  dreamed  of.  It 
was  natural  that  those  who  had  lived  around  him  for  fifty 
years,  his  relations  by  blood,  should  expect  from  their 
uncle,  a  bachelor,  at  least  some  token  of  his  remembrance. 
Had  he  seen  fit  to  divide  between  them  and  the  devisees, 
regarding  as  well  the  claims  of  blood  as  of  the  public  serv 
ice,  as  we  are  now  ready  to  do,  the  labor  of  this  investiga 
tion  would  never  have  fallen  to  you. 

No  doubt  the  owner  of  property,  by  complying  with 
the  provisions  of  the  law,  may  disinherit  the  child  of  his 
loins.  The  \&m  first  provides  for  heirs,  and  says,  that  while 
a  right  will  may  deprive  them  of  the  inheritance,  yet  the 


REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.          387 

forms  of  law  must  be  strictly  and  rigidly  followed.  The 
reason  why  the  law  provides  that  property  shall  descend  to 
heirs,  in  the  absence  of  a  will,  is  not  that  somebody  may  be 
made  richer,  but  to  save  the  rush  and  scramble  that  would 
ensue  if  everybody 'had  an  equal  right  to  the  accumulations 
of  the  deceased.  While  a  relative  exists  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  the  law  seeks  him  out;  and  not  till  the  most  diligent 
scrutiny  fails  to  find  an  heir  will  the  law  interpose  to  take 
such  property  for  public  uses.  And  this  is  according  to  na 
ture  and  the  eternal  fitness  of  things.  Therefore  in  every 
code,  by  every  lawgiver,  in  every  age,  the  right  of  the  heir 
at  law  has  been  held  first  and  most  sacred. 

Still  a  discretionary  power  is  given  to  disinherit  heirs. 
But  it  may  be  so  cruelly,  so  suddenly,  and  so  capriciously 
exercised  as  to  disappoint  the  most  reasonable  expectations. 
Therefore,  while  the  general  power  is  sacredly  secured, 
every  law  provides  a  great  variety  of  forms,  complying 
with  which  the  testator  may  disinherit  his  child  ;  but  fail 
ing  to  comply  with  them  there  is  no  will.  The  ties  of  blood 
are  then  regarded.  Then  the  first  and  the  last  will  is  the 
will  of  the  law. 

The  Will  of  Oliver  Smith  is  not  according  to  the  forms 
of  law. 

The  law  requires  that  every  will  be  attested  by  three 
competent  witnesses — competent  to  inspect  the  mind  of 
the  testator — competent  to  judge  of  the  whole  transaction. 
The  principal  object  of  this  provision  is  to  protect  the 
heirs  at  law,  and  in  a  limited  degree  only  to  protect  the 
testator.  For  the  protection  of  the  heirs,  the  law  provides 
that  the  testator  shall  be  surrounded  by  three  competent 
witnesses,  to  read  the  mind  of  the  testator.  In  the  present 
case  we  have  not  such  witnesses.  We  are  entitled  to  three 
minds,  and  not  to  three  bodies  merely.  We  are  entitled 


388    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

to  three  whole  men — men  independent  of  each  other,  but 
we  haven't  got  them. 

Generally,  men  do  not  make  their  wills  until  old  age  or 
sickness  is  upon  them.  It  is  when  the  testator  approaches 
the  line  of  imbecility  that  the  security  of  witnesses  is  re 
quired,  lest  cunning  men  come  between  him  and  his  child. 

Mr.  Choate  proceeded  to  state  his  views  of  the  legal 
meaning  of  a  competent  witness  to  a  will.  He  must  be 
able  to  "  try  the  mind"  of  the  testator,  and  judge  of  his 
sanity.  On  this  point  various  authorities  were  cited  and 
commented  upon,  particularly  the  opinion  of  Lord  Cam- 
den,  who  ruled  that  a  witness  to  a  will  should  be  able 
to  "  inspect"  the  mind,  and  test  the  capacity  of  the  tes 
tator. 

Mr.  Choate  then  laid  down  the  proposition,  that  The- 
ophilus  P.  Phelps  was  not  such  a  competent  witness,  which 
he  maintained  at  length,  upon  a  review  of  the  testimony 
in  the  case. 

Look  at  the  manner  in  which  the  transaction  was 
done  ?  What  was  done  to  test  the  capacity  of  the  tes 
tator  ?  Nothing  at  all.  Here  was  an  old  man,  upon  the 
verge  of  the  grave.  Neither  of  the  witnesses  were  ac 
quainted  with  him — never  had  spoken  a  word  to  him  and 
scarcely  knew  him.  They  were  called  in.  The  testator 
was  asked  if  it  was  his  last  will  and  testament,  and  if  he 
wished  the  witnesses  to  sign  it.  He  said  yes.  They  signed 
it  and  went  away.  The  whole  transaction  was  without 
the  forms  of  inspection. 

Witnesses  to  a  will  should  be  perfectly  sound  in  mind. 
What  are  they  to  do  ?  As  before  stated,  they  are  to  sur 
round  the  testator,  to  protect  the  heirs  at  law.  They  are 
to  try  the  testator's  mind.  Think  of  Theophilus  P.  Phelps 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.      389 

trying  the  capacity  and  sanity  of  Oliver  Smith  ?  The 
witnesses  are  also  to  protect  the  testator,  whose  hands  may 
have  outlived  his  head,  from  imposition. 

To  perform  such  a  function,  the  witness  must  possess 
quick  perception  and  close  observation.  The  mind  that 
reads  the  spirit  must  be  free  from  morbid  influences,  and 
must  be  in  a  perfectly  normal  state. 

Theophilus  P.  Phelps  is  the  son  of  an  educated  and 
able  man — grandson  of  the  illustrious  Theophilus  Parsons. 
It  was  natural  that  he  should  be  destined  to  a  profession. 
He  went  to  college.  For  the  first,  second,  and  third  years, 
he  was  cheerful  and  social,  and  in  these  respects  in  no  way 
unlike  his  fellow  students.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  third 
or  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  year,  he  was  taken  sick — 
not  of  common  disease — but  of  a  morbid  disease  of  the 
brain.  He  went  home  once  or  twice,  and  was  unable  to 
perform  his  part  at  Commencement.  It  was  then  he 
dropped  mentally  dead — that  day  his  mind  died.  Then 
began  that  strange  pain  and  oppression  of  the  head  from 
which  he  has  never  since  been  free.  From  that  hour  to 
this  a  settled  gloom  has  hung  over  him  like  a  pall.  His 
occupations  in  the  field,  and  in  the  composition  of  his  book, 
were  struggles  to  work  off  his  feelings.  Life,  from  that 
time — save  the  brief  period  of  mental  excitement  in  1843 
— has  been  to  him  a  long  sleep  of  the  soul.  For  six  years 
he  has  not  entered  the  house  of  a  neighbor  ;  for  six  years 
lie  has  not  enjoyed  the  calm  air  of  a  house  of  worship.  He 
iias  been  ever  eating  his  own  heart. 

In  August,  1843,  he  was  not  mad  for  the  first  time, 
but  differently  mad.  He  then  became  visibly  and  openly 
insane.  His  eye,  which  wras  to  inspect  the  mind  of  the 
testator,  saw  a  conspiracy  in  his  own  brother.  To  escape 
from  this,  he  attempted  suicide.  It  was  a  disease  of  the 


390         REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS    C  HO  ATE. 

brain — of  the  nervous  system.    Such  a  witness  is  not  what 
we  are  entitled  to  by  law. 

Mr.  Choate  then  went  on  to  argue  that  the  burden  of 
proof,  as  to  the  competency  of  the  witness,  was  upon  the 
party  setting  up  the  will,  and  that  inasmuch  as  it  had  been 
shown,  on  the  part  of  the  heirs  at  law,  that  the  witness 
was  of  unsound  mind  a  few  months  before  the  date  of  the 
attestation,  it  became  necessary  for  the  other  party  to  show 
a  restoration.  This  rule,  as  to  the  burden  of  proof,  was 
qualified  by  another  rule  ;  that  where  the  insanity  origi 
nated  in  some  sudden,  acute,  particular  cause,  then  there 
was  no  presumption  that  the  insanity  continued  after  such 
cause  had  subsided. 

He  then  argued,  upon  the  testimony,  that  no  such 
sudden  cause  had  been  shown  in  this  case,  the  accident  of 
Ms  father  being  inadequate.  His  mind  never  turned  on 
the  accident  to  his  father.  His  disease  existed  certainly  a 
month  before  the  accident,  on  his  return  from  Philadel 
phia,  and  whether  it  commenced  at  the  close  of  his  college 
life  or  not,  it  is  indisputable  that  it  existed  from  July, 
1843,  to  December  or  January  following.  Unless,  then, 
the  other  party  show  that  after  that  time  the  disease  was 
removed  prior  to  July,  1844,  the  presumption  is  that  he 
continued  insane  until  that  time. 

The  testimony  in  the  case  fails  to  show  whether  or  not 
the  insanity  was  so  removed.  If  he  were  now  on  trial  for 
perjury  in  1844,  would  you  convict  him  ?  The  law  would 
not  hurt  a  hair  of  his  head.  It  is  of  no  consequence 
whether  he  be  restored  at  the  present  day,  that  is  wholly 
collateral  to  the  issue. 

His  own  account  does  not  prove  such  restoration.  In 
this  Dr.  Woodward  and  Dr.  Bell  agree.  On  the  contrary, 
it  proves  him  to  have  been  incompetent  to  attest  the  will. 


REMINISCENCES     OF     II  U  F  II  S     C  II  O  A  T  E  .       391 

He  was  there  present,  but  lie  now  remembers  the  signing 
of  only  one  paper  by  the  testator.  His  mind  was  not 
there — he  was  brooding  over  some  delusion. 

He  gives  no  reason  for  his  recovery  in  December,  1843  ; 
none  has  been  given.  The  same  bodily  disease  continued, 
as  before  that  time. 

All  that  has  been  offered  in  evidence  to  prove  his  res 
toration  before  the  attestation  of  the  will  is  reconcilable 
with  the  continuance  of  his  disease.  An  insane  man  can 
labor  in  the  field,  can  compose  a  connected  book,  can  take 
delight  in  reading. 

Mr.  Choate,  in  closing,  recapitulated  his  three  principal 
positions : 

1st.  That  insanity  having  been  proved  near  the  end 
of  1844,  the  burden  of  proof  was  on  the  other  party  to 
prove  a  restoration  in  July  following. 

2d.  That  the  testimony  offered  for  the  purpose  was 
reconcilable  with  continued  insanity. 

3d.  That  every  cause  of  his  insanity  at  any  time,  is 
shown  to  have  existed  when  the  will  was  attested. 

Those  causes,  said  Mr.  Choate,  were  partly  the  terrible 
pain  and  oppression  of  the  head,  which  lasted  for  six  years ; 
but  mainly  and  chiefly  his  long  idleness  and  solitude  from 
the  time  when  he  left  college  to  the  present  day.  Mr. 
Choate  dwelt  at  length,  and  with  great  effect,  upon  seclu 
sion  as  a  cause  of  melancholy  and  madness  ;  and  concluded 
with  a  beautifully  apposite  quotation  from  "  Burton's 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy" — his  closing  injunction  to  those 
disposed  to  insanity — "  Be  not  solitary,  be  not  idle." 
The  reporter  of  this  case  adds  : 

"  We  have  given  above  a  brief  outline  of  Mr.  Choate's 
argument,  occasionally  using  his  phraseology;  but  we  think 


,392     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

it  bare  justice  to  him  to  say,  that  no  one  but  a  short-hand 
writer  can  adequately  report  his  language." 

After  a  recess  of  five  minutes,  Mr.  Webster  addressed 
the  jury  for  about  two  hours  ;  and  his  first  sentence  is  pic 
turesque  and  very  complimentary  to  Choate. 

He  commenced  by  observing  that  in  the  case  itself  there 
was  nothing  extraordinary.  It  involved  the  attestation  of 
a  will.  There  may  be  interesting  circumstances  around  it. 
The  case  turns  a  good  deal  on  the  character  of  a  young 
.man.  The  property  is  large.  The  heirs  are  disappointed. 
There  is  enough  to  make  a  scene  and  a  picture.  There  is 
the  canvas,  and,  as  you  have  seen,  there  is  a  master. 
Things  have  been  presented  in  a  dramatic  form.  Dramas 
are  made  from  common  occurrences.  The  hand  of  a  master 
gives  them  interest.  The  scenes  of  Shakspeare  are  more 
interesting  now  than  when  they  occurred.  It  is  a  common 
remark  that  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus,  and  all  statues,  are 
but  human  works  wrought  out  of  rough  stone. 

Your  duty  is,  to  take  the  common  view — to  go  to  the 
real  and  substantial  facts.  The  question  is  the  Will  of 
Oliver  Smith. 

March  3Qth7  1848. — Mr,  Choate  argued  yesterday  on 
the  question  of  the  boundary  between  Massachusetts  and 
Rhode  Island,  before  a  Committee  of  the  Senate. 

I  noticed  particularly  that  in  the  monotonous  level 
of  his  legal  citation  and  reasoning  and  appealing  to  rec 
ords,  he  would  never  allow  his  audience  to  flag,  but  would 
every  now  and  then  startle  and  arouse  them  by  some  peal 
of  eloquence  or  witty  allusion.  Thus  he  broke  out  once 
like  a  flash  of  lightning  in  a  dark  day,  from  his  tedious 
reciting,  "  When  the  eagle  would  soar  to  make  her  nest 
in  the  stars  why  did  they  not  openly  clip  its  wings  ?"  His 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE.  393 

light  wit  was  not  at  all  labored  ;  it  seemed  suggested  by 
the  course  of  remarks.  Thus,  speaking  of  Koger  Williams, 
and  subsequently  of  his  lapsed  charter,  he  said  ; — "  Sir, 
the  charter  was  stone  dead  ;  dead  as  Koger  Williams." 
Again,  ironically,  "  Why  did  not  King  Charles  II.  boldly 
say,  '  I  know  nothing  of  niy  subjects'  colonies,  their  metes 
and  bounds,  so  absorbed  am  I  in  my  metaphysical  re 
searches  !' }: 

December  28tk,  1848. — Heard  Mr.  Choate  against 
Webster  to-day  in  a  divorce  case. 

Choate  said  of  one  of  the  witnesses,  Either  he  had  said 
truly,  or  it  was  a  splendid  improvisation  •  and  he  ought 
to  be  seized  for  the  stage,  and  would  make  his  fortune 
there. 

He  must  have  sunk  manhood's  and  boyhood's  qualities 
indestructible.  His  evidence  is  confused,  divided  and  di 
verse,  like  geological  periods.  First  a  grand  granitic  sub 
struction  of  truth,  a  middle  of  silence,  then  a  superstructure 
of  speech,  for  testimony.  Of  another  witness,  who  swore 
to  looking  through  a  key-hole,  and  withdrawing  her  eye, 
he  said,  Would  she  have  seen  all  this,  and  seen  no  more  ? 
Such  another  instance  was  not  in  the  history  of  flesh  and 
blood.  She  was  at  an  age  when  women  see  nothing  or 
see  all. 

Were  their  cheeks  crimson  with  sated  and  extinguished 
passion  ?  She  has  sworn  she  told  nobody  for  seven  years. 
For  seven  years  she  drops  it  from  mind  ;  then  in  sharp, 
bold,  prominent  outline,  she  reveals  all.  There  are  clearly 
defined  periods  in  her  revelations,  like  the  rings  round  a 
hemlock  rind. 

17* 


394         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

He  was  a  personable  man.  He  was  of  the  ambiguous 
period,  when  juvenescence  merges  into  adolescence.  To 
judge  these  jollities  and  frolics  so,  would  be  like  monks, 
not  men — Alcibiades  with  Aspasia.  According  to  them, 
some  woo  the  mistress  and  some  woo  the  maid,  but  he 
woos  both.  Let  us  go  back  to  a  classic  and  heroic  stand 
ard.  He  was  not  willful,  he  was  playful,  gamboling  or 
infantile.  But  this  witness  did  not  dare  to  speak,  they 
say.  Why  not  ?  (he  screamed  out.)  The  witness  was  as 
safe,  as  if  in  Gibraltar  with  the  whole  British  fleet  out 
side. 

To  the  libellant,  may  it  please  your  Honor,  the  conse 
quences  of  the  decree  are  not  ruinous.  The  love  that  lives 
once  may  live  again.  Some  death-bed  revelations  of  the 
false  witness,  some  loss  of  relatives,  the  disciplines  of 
Providence,  may  medicine  his  diseased  and  abused  mind  ; 
but  to  her  there  can  be  no  return  from  a  decree.  It  is 
death. 

CONSTITUTIONAL    ARGUMENT     OF    MR.    CHOATE, 

Before  a  Committee  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature,  upon  the  tenure  of  the  office  of 
justice  of  the  peace  ;  and  against  the  removal,  by  address,  of  James  G-.  Carter,  Esq., 
from  that  office;  5th  April,  1849. 

This  case  was  a  petition  by  certain  citizens  of  Massa 
chusetts  for  the  removal  of  Mr.  Carter  from  his  office,  by 
address  of  the  Legislature.  It  was  a  case  of  novel  impres 
sion  ;  impeachment  being  the  only  mode  generally  under 
stood,  as  applicable  to  remove  an  alleged  judicial  de 
linquent.  Mr.  Choate  made  a  close,  grave  and  learned 
constitutional  argument.  Some  portions  of  it  are  given 
here.  It  was  reported  phonographically. 

This  proceeding  has  been  carried  so  far,  Mr.  Chairman 


REMINISCENCES  OF   RUFUS  CHOATE.   395 

arid  gentlemen,  that  it  seems  necessary  to  the  respondent  to 
cany  it  somewhat  further,  and  for  that  purpose  to  present 
liis  answer  to  the  charges  which  are  made,  and  to  produce 
some  portion  of  his  testimony  in  opposition  to  them.  Be 
fore  he  does  this,  however,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  his  right 
and  mine  that  I  should  submit  a  very  few  general  consider 
ations  to  the  Committee  upon  the  principle  of  the  transac 
tion  in  which  we  are  engaged,  and  upon  the  actual  posture 
of  the  proceeding  itself  as  it  now  presents  itsolf. 

If  I  am  not  very  much  deceived,  Mr.  Chairman  and 
gentlemen,  in  this  matter,  sober  men,  conservative  men  of 
all  parties,  and  of  whatever  pre-occupation  of  mind  against 
the  respondent  or  his  case,  will  agree  with  us  that  it  is 
proper  to  pause,  to  heave  the  lead,  to  heed  the  compass, 
and  to  take  the  sun,  if  we  can  see  it  through  the  clouds, 
for  an  observation,  before  we  attempt  much  further  to 
push  forward  so  new  and  so  perilous  a  movement  as  this 
may  be. 

I  do  not  know  how  this  has  struck  others,  and  I  do  not 
know  how  it  would  have  struck  myself  if  I  had  held  a  re 
tainer  upon  a  different  side,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  have 
noticed  with  astonishment  this  mode  of  removing  an  officer 
by  address,  instead  of  the  old-fashioned,  decent,  if  you 
please  slow,  but  safe  mode  of  impeachment.  I  regard  it 
as  a  bad  change — as  a  sign  of  the  radical  times  in  which 
we  live.  Perhaps  some  power  exists  in  the  Constitution. 
But  I  confess  that  I  have  supposed,  if  there  was  one  axiom 
of  our  Constitution  better  appreciated  than  another  by 
every  man  of  whatever  party,  in  the  just  and  proper  sense 
of  the  term,  it  was  exactly  this  :  that  this  power  of  re 
moving  by  address  is  the  most  dangerous  in  the  Constitu 
tion — that  it  is  altogether  the  most  directly  repugnant  to 
our  system  of  constitutional  checks  and  balances,  and  that 


396   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

as  a  matter  of  course  it  was  not  intended  to  be  resorted  to 
except  in  very  important  cases — in  cases  which  should  com 
mand  the  unanimous  sense  of  the  community,  and  even 
the  sober  second  thought  of  the  victim  himself — that  it 
should  never  be  resorted  to  when  it  was  in  any  degree  in 
volved  in  doubt,  whether  the  person  to  be  immediately 
affected  by  the  action,  or  any  one  else,  was  within  the  reach 
of  the  constitutional  provision  for  impeachment ;  and,  above 
all,  never  to  be  resorted  to  as  a  matter  of  elementary  pro 
cedure  in  any  case  when  it  could  by  any  possibility  reach 
an  innocent  person. 

I  say  to  you,  gentlemen,  who  are  to  represent  the  policy 
of  this  proceeding  to  the  Legislature,  I  have  always  held 
this  maxim  ;  and  I  must  confess  that  I  have  never  felt  a 
more  painful  surprise  than  when  I  heard  lately,  from  per 
sons  on  whose  opinion  I  have  quite  implicitly  relied,  that 
impeachment  is  not  sufficient  to  reach  this  kind  of  case — 
and  that  we  would  better  take  the  shorter  cut  of  address. 
I  entreat  you  to  confer  a  moment  upon  the  case,  before 
action. 

Let  me  say  a  word  or  two,  first  upon  a  narrow  ground, 
and  then  upon  a  somewhat  broader  view  of  this  great  ques 
tion,  now  for  the  first  time  to  be  presented  to  the  delibera 
tion  of  this  Legislature.  I  submit  to  you,  Mr.  Chairman, 
— you  who  have  so  long  and  so  ably  assisted  to  administer 
justice  in  civil  and  criminal  cases — I  submit  that  as  a  mat 
ter  of  right  to  the  judicial  officer,  whose  commission  is 
sought  to  be  taken  from  him,  the  proceedings  should  be 
as  near  an  approach  as  possible  to  the  judicial  method  of 
procedure  which  prevails  in  all  constitutional  cases  affect 
ing  the  rights  of  individuals.  Without  standing  here  to 
moot  extreme  cases,  I  conceive  that  it  is  sufficient  for  me 
to  claim,  and  T  have  no  doubt  but  that  the  learned  counsel 


It  E  M  1  N  I  S  0  E  N  C  E  H     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E .      397 

on  the  opposite  side  will  concede  that  the  respondent  has  a 
sacred  right  in  his  office.  Whether  the  commission  be 
property  or  riot,  it  is  a  sacred  right,  inasmuch  as  it  pos 
sesses  a  pecuniary  value — inasmuch  as  he  holds  it  as  a  proof 
<>f  his  judgment  and  capacity,  and  as  a  means  of  doing  a 
public  service ;  and  inasmuch  as,  further,  to  deprive  him 
of  it,  is  to  disgrace  him  ;  I  submit  that  it  is  a  quasi  prop 
erty.  And  I  therefore  submit  that  the  forfeiter  should  be 
pronounced  guilty,  by  as  near  an  approximation  to  a  judi 
cial  procedure  as  is  known  to  the  terms  of  the  Consti 
tution. 

1  have  heard  it  said  there  is  hope  of  a  tree,  if  it  be  cut 
down,  that  it  may  spring  up  again — that  its  tender  branches 
may  again  come  forth  to  produce  leaves  and  bear  fruit ;  but 
when  the  reputation  of  a  man  is  dead,  where  is  he  ? 

I  put  it  to  you  in  the  first  place,  with  great  confidence 
and  great  earnestness,  that  you  are  urged  to  deprive  a  citi 
zen  of  a  property — and  that  you  should  do  it,  if  you  should 
do  it  at  all,  by  as  near  an  approximation  to  the  forms  of 
a  grave  and  judicial  proceeding  as  the  Constitution  al 
lows  of. 

In  the  next  place,  there  is  another  reason  why  we  should 
proceed  against  this  man,  and  against  every  man,  by  the 
forms  of  law.  And  I  expect  on  this  also,  riot  only  the 
sanction  of  the  Committee,  but  also  the  assent  of  my  learned 
brother  ;  and  that  is,  as  against  Mr.  Carter,  and  against 
every  one,  it  is  really  a  case  of  the  administration  of  crim 
inal  law  ;  and  that  also,  in  the  universal  manner  in  which 
criminals  are  tried — he  should  be  tried  judicially  if  he  be 
tried  at  all.  Now  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  this  power  of 
address,  necessarily,  is  an  administration  of  criminal  jus 
tice.  There  may  be,  and  there  were  expected  to  be,  very 


398  REMINISCENCES  OF   RUFUS  CHOATE. 

many  cases  where  a  judicial  officer  may  be  removed  by 
address. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  that  this  Constitutional  provision 
was  intended  to  apply  to  the  visitation  of  Grod — to  lunacy, 
to  superannuation,  or  to  some  other  cause  of  a  similar  na 
ture,  without  inflicting  any  pain  upon  the  feelings  of  the 
party  removed.  Such  an  administration,  without  being  an 
administration  of  criminal  law,  might  be  conducted  so  as 
to  soothe  the  feelings  of  the  party.  It  might  be  so  done  as 
to  command  his  approbation.  It  might  be  attended  by  a 
very  just  panegyric  for  the  long  and  faithful  services  of  an 
illustrious  individual ;  and  when  thus  administered,  as  it 
was  undoubtedly  intended  to  be  administered,  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  it  is  inappropriate.  But  when,  as  in  this  case, 
you  intend  to  deprive  a  person  of  office,  on  the  ground  of 
a  bad  reputation,  I  put  it  to  you  that  it  is,  in  its  intrinsic 
character,  an  administration  of  criminal  law.  And  I  do, 
therefore,  submit  that  upon  that  ground  it  ought  to  be 
conducted  by  impeachment,  if  it  can  be  conducted  by  im 
peachment,  and  by  as  near  an  approach  to  judicial  pro 
ceeding  as  the  forms  of  the  Constitution  will  allow. 

I  submit  that  it  is  due  to  the  officer  and  the  man,  that 
it  should  be  so.  I  submit  that  it  is  due  to  the  family, 
whose  hear.ts  must  bleed  when  this  is  done.  I  submit  that 
it  is  due  to  justice  and  to  example,  and  for  the  proper  im 
pression  upon  the  community. 

Nobody  will  suppose — you,  Mr.  Chairman,  who  know 
me  personally  so  well — no  member  of  this  Committee  will 
suppose  that  I  intend  to  intimate  any  disrespect  to  any  of 
you,  when  I  say  that  the  forms  of  impeachment  are  better 
for  the  respondent  than  those  of  address.  No  forms  are 
safer  than  those  of  impeachment.  After  a  hearing  by  a 
Committee,  when  the  impeachment  has  been  voted  for  by 


REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    C  HO  ATE.         39!) 

one  branch  of  the  Legislature,  another  branch  of  the  Leg 
islature  is  instantly,  may  I  not  say  it  ?  elevated  to  a  Court 
of  Law ;  another  branch  of  the  Legislature  immediately 
divests  itself  of  its  Legislative  character,  and  erects  itself 
into  a  Court  of  Justice.  The  judicial  oath  is  taken — rules 
of  practice — rules  of  evidence — a  code  of  laws  are  emerged, 
and  surround  the  party — a  terror  to  evil  doers — a  protec 
tion  to  honest  men.  Counsel  are  retained  on  one  side  and 
the  other.  The  elaborate  discussions  of  the  bar  take  place. 
Grave  deliberations  are  held.  And  in  the  language  of 
Burke,  "  that  which  is  irreversible,  is  made  to  be  slow." 

We  therefore  gain  one  further  advantage,  in  asking  for 
Mr.  Carter  the  impeachment.  You  will  see  that  this  af 
fects  his  property,  and  his  reputation — in  the  first  place 
touching  him  in  his  pocket,  and  then  in  his  good  name. 
You  ought  to  try  him  according  to  Magna  Charta,  and  by 
the  Bill  of  Eights,  rather  than  by  this  sudden  proceeding. 

I  have  heard  many  persons  say  that  an  impeachment 
takes  too  much  time.  It  is  loading  too  much  of  a  gun  for 
the  game.  Gentlemen,  that  would  conduct  us  instantly  to 
lynching.  Suppose  a  man  took  a  pistol  and  shot  another 
dead  in  State  street.  Why  should  he  not  be  taken  to  the 
Common,  and  hanged  amidst  the  execrations  of  a  hundred 
thousand  spectators  ?  Because,  perhaps  he  did  not  think 
his  pistol  loaded.  Because,  perhaps  he  was  insane.  Be 
cause,  perhaps  his  victim  had  purposely  trod  upon  his  foot 
— intentionally  provoked  and  insulted  him.  For  the  sake 
of  caring  for  human  life — for  the  sake  of  turning  this  into 
a  grave  proceeding  of  State,  although  no  human  individual 
has  doubts  of  his  guilt,  the  counsel  challenge  the  jurors, 
and  plead  his  cause  with  eloquent  words,  and  with  the 
judgment  of  twelve  of  his  peers  and  a  full  bench,  he  takes 
his  chance  of  escape.  I  submit  that  the  same  judgment 


400         REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    C  II  O  A  T  E  . 

which  allows  us  to  give  a  fellow  creature  such  an  opportu 
nity  to  escape,  when  he  has  committed  a  heinous  crime  ; 
should  warrant  us  in  furnishing  equal  justice  to  an  officer 
whose  reputation,  dearer  than  life,  is  attacked. 

And  now  I  may  he  permitted  to  say  a  word  or  two,  as 
one  of  your  constituents,  upon  this  great  question — for  the 
main  argument  is  with  more  propriety  and  ability  to  be 
developed  by  my  learned  associate — the  power  of  the  Legis 
lature  to  remove  the  Judge  by  address.  "Sic  volo,  sic 
jubeo,  stct  pro  ratione  voluntas"  stands  alone,  an  excep 
tion  to  the  independence  of  the  Judiciary.  The  more  I 
have  reflected  upon  it,  the  more  does  this  strike  me.  I 
suppose  that  we  agree  that  the  one  grand  peculiarity  of 
our  system  of  government — the  one  grand  fundamental 
doctrine  of  constitutional  liberty — the  great  primitive  gran 
ite  foundation  of  it  all,  is,  that  the  three  great  departments 
of  the  Government  shall  be  entirely  independent  each  of 
the  other  ;  and  that  in  a  special  manner,  the  Judiciary  shall 
be  independent  not  merely  of  the  crown,  but  of  that  power 
behind  the  throne,  so  much  greater  than  the  throne,  the 
Legislature.  I  suppose,  sir,  there  is  not  the  least  extrava 
gance  in  saying  that  this  principle  is  the  one  foundation 
and  granite  principle  upon  which  our  Constitution  is  built. 
I  suppose  that  there  is  no  extravagance  in  saying  that  the 
one  great  principle  of  English  liberty  obtained  in  1688,  was 
exactly  this — that  for  the  first  time,  it  made  the  English 
Judge  independent  of  the  crown.  Let  any  man  refresh  his 
studies  of  our  glorious  Literature  of  Liberty — let  him  go 
back  to  1780  and  1789,  when  our  Constitutions  were  de 
bated  and  adopted — let  him  read  Mr.  Adams'  history  of 
the  debates  in  the  several  conventions,  and  the  papers  of 
Jefferson  and  Madison,  and  he  will  find  that  these  three 


REMINISCENCES     OF      R  U  F  U  b      C  II  O  A  T  E  .       401 

great  ideas  possessed  the  universal  American  mind  :  first, 
chat  the  three  departments  of  Government  should  be  kept 
distinct  ;  secondly,  that  the  Judiciary  should  be  made 
independent ;  and  thirdly,  while  most  persons  entertained 
a  very  unreflecting  dread  of  Executive  power,  the  wisest 
and  best  of  our  fathers  anticipated  that  morbid  develop 
ment  of  the  power  of  the  Legislature,  which  should  thrust 
down  the  Judiciary  below  it. 

It  is  upon  that  principle,  you  know  very  well,  Mr. 
Chairman  and  Gentlemen,  that  our  own  State  Constitution 
has  been  organized.  And  I  never  read  without  a  thrill  of 
sublimity  the  concluding  article  of  the  Bill  of  Eights,  in 
which  it  is  promulgated. 

"  In  the  Government  of  this  Commonwealth,  the  Legis 
lative  department  shall  never  exercise  the  Executive  and 
Judicial  powers,  or  either  of  them  ;  the  Executive  shall 
never  exercise  the  Legislative  and  Judicial  powers,  or  either 
of  them  ;  the  Judicial  shall  never  exercise  the  Legislative 
and  Executive  powers,  or  either  of  them  :  to  the  end  that 
it  may  be  a  Government  of  laws,  and  not  of  men." 

The  language  is  borrowed  immediately  from  Harring 
ton,  who  says  he  borrowed  from  Livy. 

I  remember  a  story  of  a  person  who  said  that  he  could 
read  Paradise  Lost  without  its  affecting  him  at  all,  but 
that  there  was  a  passage  at  the  end  of  Newton's  Optics, 
which  made  his  flesh  creep  and  his  hair  stand  on  end.  I 
confess  that  I  never  read  that  article  of  the  Constitution 
without  feeling  the  same  :  "  to  the  end  that  it  may  be  a 
Government  of  laws  and  not  of  men/' 

It  must  have  struck  every  one  with  surprise,  that  in 
our  Constitution  there  should  be  found  a  power  authoriz 
ing  the  Legislature,  without  one  particle  of  notice,  to  take 


402      REMINISCENCES     OF     B  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E  . 

the  Chief  Justice  out  of  his  seat  in  a  single  hour.  It  struck 
me  a  little  as  it  would  those  who  translated  King  James' 
Bible,  if  the  word  "  not"  in  the  seventh  commandment 
had  been  omitted  as  unnecessary. 

This  power  must  have  been  intended  only  for  a  few 
palpable  cases — cases  of  insanity — lunacy — superannuation 
— or  for  a  few  unknown  cases,  which  no  human  wisdom 
could  foresee,  in  which.,  when  they  come,  the  universal  assent 
of  the  community  is  instantly  commanded  to  the  re 
moval — as  if  the  Judge,  sir,  should,  as  is  stated  in  the  old 
books  of  religious  devotion,  be  left  to  the  commission  of 
crime  so  indisputable,  and  so  transcendant,  that  the  uni 
versal  community,  his  friends — himself,  if  he  could  be 
heard  to  speak,  would  demand  an  instant  removal.  If 
there  remained  a  particle  of  doubt,  it  should  not  be  done — 
the  power  of  the  Legislature  should  not  be  used. 

Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen,  I  have  somewhat  re 
flected  upon  the  limitations  under  which  this  power  should 
be  presented.  Under  these  limits,  held  up  thus,  and  with 
these  restrictions,  it  may  be  reconciled,  as  otherwise  it  could 
not  be,  to  the  general  principles  of  a  great  system  of  Con 
stitutional  checks  and  balances.  But  the  very  instant  you 
set  an  example  of  going  beyond, — permit  me  to  say  to  you 
— some  of  you  personal  friends — and  all  of  you,  whom  I 
entirely  respect — you  set  an  example  which,  probably,  is 
fatal  to  the  Constitution.  He  whom  the  providence  of 
God  elevates  in  such  a  way,  that  his  acts  has  bad  conse 
quences,  he  is  justly  deemed  responsible  ;  but  the  act  which 
his  example  sets  may  be  much  more  injurious.  You  are 
good  men,  and  live  in  good  times  ;  but  you  set  an  ex 
ample  for  bad  men  in  bad  times. 

It  seems  to  me,  then,  that  it  is  a  duty  of  very  great 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.         403 

importance  that  this  power  is  not  strained  and  perverted, 
and  I  hope  that  we  shall  find  historically,  and  according  to 
the  spirit  of  a  statesman,  and  in  the  terms  and  language  of 
a  statesman,  embodied  in  the  report  of  this  Committee,  the 
true  doctrine  of  the  limitations  of  this  tremendous  power. 
Let  us  trace  it  up — show  how  it  was  inadvertently  intro 
duced  into  the  Constitution  by  the  framers — show  how  it 
is  always  to  be  held  in  subordination  to  the  principles  of 
the  Constitution — how  there  are  rare  cases  to  which  it  may 
be  applied,  and  thus  purge  the  mind  of  the  Government  and 
of  the  country  of  that  pernicious  and  novel  generality 
which  seems  to  me  to  leave  no  man  any  security  at  all  for 
any  thing  that  he  holds,  or  any  thing  that  he  owns.  In  its 
nature  it  is  vague — in  its  nature  unfriendly  to  the  inde 
pendence  of  the  Judiciary — in  its  nature  it  leads  to  a  morbid 
enlargement  of  Legislative  power.  I  submit  that  it  is  your 
duty  to  be  quite  sure  that  you  apply  it  to  no  person,  and 
to  no  thing,  in  any  doubtful  case,  whether  or  not  it  is  in 
the  original  intention. 

If  a  case  be  doubtful,  I  pray  your  judgment,  and  I  feel 
no  manner  of  doubt  as  to  the  result.  If  the  case  be  doubt 
ful — whether  it  applies  to  the  Judge — whether  it  applies 
to  the  description  of  matter  with  which  he  stands  charged 
— if  it  be  doubtful  ;  for  God's  sake,  throw  into  the  scale 
the  great  principle  of  the  Constitution — which  is  the  inde 
pendence  of  the  Judiciary.  That  great  doubt  you  can  not 
escape. 

I  submit,  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen,  that  true 
policy  would  advise  us  to  lock  up  the  "  extreme  medicine" 
till  the  attack  of  the  alarming  malady.  "  True  wisdom 
would  advise  us  to  place  such  a  power  rather  in  the  back 
ground/'  as  the  great  Burke  has  said,  "  and  to  throw  over 
it  the  well- wrought  veil  of  obscurity,  reserving  it  for  the 


404      REMINISCENCES     OF     B  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  . 

emergency/'  The  power  is  here.  Let  it  be  preserved.  It 
should  be  kept  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  Constitution. 
Keep  it  in  that  dark  vault,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Gothic 
king,  lighted  only  by  a  single  candle.  Keep  it  till  some 
i^reat  complication  arises  which,  it  requires  a  divinity  to 
disentangle.  That  is  a  precept  of  importance. 

Leaving  these  two  general  considerations — during  the 
presentation  of  which  I  had  forgotten  that  I  was  an  advo 
cate,  and  had  recurred  to  the  first  principles  by  which  my 
dreaming  manhood  was  charmed — I  submit  that  this  power 
of  removal  does  not  apply  to  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  at  all. 
And  I  suppose  that  these  remarks  will  not  be  considered 
far-fetched  when  we  come  to  examine  the  Constitution. 

But  before  turning  to  the  Book  of  political  life,  let  me 
propound  to  the  lawyers  of  this  board  this  rule  of  interpre 
tation  •  the  rule  is  this,  that  as  the  power  of  removing  by 
the  Legislature  is  the  exceptional  case — not  the  general 
rule — as  it  is  confessedly  a  departure  from  the  general 
spirit  of  our  system  of  constitutional  checks  and  balances 
— as  it  weakens  the  Judiciary,  and  gives  a  vast  expansion 
to  the  power  of  the  Legislature  ;  the  Constitution  is  to  be 
strictly  construed — What  do  you  say  to  that,  Mr.  Chair 
man  ? — and  not  to  be  extended  beyond  the  clear,  plain, 
obvious  interpretation  of  its  terms,  and  some  plain  signifi 
cation  of  its  meaning.  I  stand  on  that,  to  the  last  gasp  of 
my  life. 

Let  us  see,  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen  ;  and  I  now 
respectfully  ask  your  attention  to  an  argument  somewhat 
carefully  written  out,  because  I  could  not  trust  myself  to 
the  using  of  so  much  of  your  time  as  an  extemporaneous 
delivery  might  occasion,  or  to  presenting  in  a  popular  form 
what  I  wish  to  be  a  close  constitutional  argument. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   405 

In  reading  the  Bill  of  Eights,  we  must  always  begin 
with  MAGNA  CHARTA.  And  I  think  that  a  good  deal  of 
light  in  this  connection  will  he  thrown  upon  this  clause  of 
the  Constitution,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  carry  you  hack 
to  the  glorious  Act  of  Settlement,  in  1688.  Our  ancestors 
borrowed  their  doctrines  from  that  great  history  of  the  Con 
stitution  of  England.  We  have  that  history  in  Hallam, 
and  also  detailed  by  the  popular  historians.  The  Act  of 
Settlement  of  William  and  Mary  made  the  Judge  inde 
pendent  of  the  king.  The  article  is  in  these  beautiful 
terms — these  are  the  exact  terms  : 

"  That  after  the  said  limitation  of  the  crown  shall  take 
effect  the  salaries  shall  be  made,  "  Quamdiu  se  bene  ges- 
serint."  But  on  the  application  of  both  Houses  of  Parlia 
ment,  it  may  be  lawful  to  remove.*  The  King  gave  to  his 
faithful  Commons  an  independent  Judge.  And  the  Com 
mons  too,  ingrafted  it  in  the  Constitution,  that  he  might 
be  removed." 

Mr.  Park,  the  opposing  counsel. — "  These  are  the 
Judges." 

Mr.  Choate. — I  rather  guess  that  Judicial  officers  mean 
Judges — I  should  like  to  see  another  Judicial  officer. 
"  Airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell,"  where  is  he  ? 

Now,  Mr.  Chairman,  this  is  the  very  first  appearance  of 
the  right,  and  it  comes  in  there,  as  it  comes  in  here — a  lim 
itation  on  the  tenure  for  life.  "  We  buy,"  as  Burke  says, 
"  all  our  blessings  of  liberty  with  a  price."  Here  was  a 
privilege  granted  to  all  the  Judiciary,  but  the  exception 
was  made  to  it.  There  was  an  independent  Judiciary  in 
the  term  for  life.  But  that  independence  cost  mankind 
too  much.  And  although,  to  the  Constitutional  reasoner, 

*  Vol.  IV.  Book  IX.  Chap.  III. 


406      REMINISCENCES     OF     E  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E . 

there  has  come  to  be  nothing  so  formidable  presented,  as 
the  power  of  the  Legislature  to  take  the  Judge  from  the 
bench  precisely  when  the  obnoxious  law  is  to  be  presented 
to  the  Judiciary  for  their  consideration  ;  yet  it  is  necessary 
that  that  transcendent  tenure,  so  far  above  the  general 
analogies  of  Kepublican  Liberty,  should  be  subject  to  that 
one  control.  But  in  the  case  of  Justices  of  the  Peace,  why 
should  the  power  be  given,  when  a  cheaper  substitute  can 
be  obtained  ?  I  say  then  they  did  not  mean  to  extend  it 
any  further. 

I  do  not  believe  that  we  should  exercise  this  power, 
and  I  apprehend,  that  before  we  can  come  to  another  con 
clusion,  we  shall  have  to  read  our  history  backwards,  as 
the  witches  were  said  to  have  read  their  Bibles. 

There  are  one  or  two  other  considerations.  I  am  here, 
as  a  very  great  Englishman  has  said,  "  not  with  books  with 
the  leaves  doubled  down,  to  speak  for  technical  principles, 
nor  to  defend  a  client  merely,  but  I  stand  here  on  an  im 
portant  and  cherished  principle  of  Constitutional  Liberty." 

This  is  the  first  time  of  taking  up  an  extraordinary 
and  mystical  passage  of  the  Constitution,  and  putting  a 
construction  on  it.  The  other  side  argues  here  from  anal 
ogy.  They  say,  if  the  great  Judge  may  be  taken,  the  lit 
tle  Judge  may  be  taken  of  course.  The  question  is,  what 
sort  of  a  power  it  is  that  takes  great  men.  I  suppose  that 
the  Legislature  had  a  great  power,  because  the  great 
Judges  had  the  great  tenure. 

"Extremum  liunc  Arethusa  mihi  concede  laborem." 

They  do  not  obtain  the  power  in  the  first  article. 
They  do  not  obtain  it  at  all.  It  is  not  the  principle  that 
the  little  Judge  may  be  'taken  as  well  as  the  great  Judge. 
But  it  is  a  bad  habit  to  take  any  Judge.  It  is  a  danger- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.       407 

ous,  debauching  power — an  exception — a  transcendentality, 
to  take  any  Judge.  And  he  is  a  wise  man  and  a  lover  of 
his  country,  wrho  can  provide  a  substitute  for  a  power 
which  we  are  all  but  too  much  inclined  "  to  roll  as  a  sweet 
morsel  under  the  tongue." 

Now,  Mr.  Chairman,  it  is  perhaps  partly  from  the  in 
fluences  of  professional  life, — I  hope  that  my  brother  will 
agree  with  me  in  this — that  I  feel  that  the  power  to  re 
move  from  this  office  on  a  ground  like  this,  is  so  large — so 
irresistible  by  itself — so  tempting  in  its  exercise — so  potent 
to  enlarge  morbidly  the  sphere  of  Legislative  power,  that  I 
can  scarcely  conceive  of  a  case  in  which  a  sober  Legislator 
would  permit  himself  to  entertain  an  application  like  this. 
I  do  say,  that  such  a  state  of  facts,  as  are  here  presented 
as  the  basis  for  invoking  the  action  of  the  Legislature,  is 
in  the  last  degree  monstrous. 

When  you  consider,  gentlemen,  that  the  Judicial  office 
is  in  itself  intrinsically  objectionable — when  you  consider 
that  the  country  Magistrate,  especially  one  who,  in  a 
divided  state  of  opinion,  administers  an  obnoxious  law 
firmly,  is  almost  necessarily  unpopular — when  you  con 
sider  that  every  man,  who  is  bound  over  by  the  Magistrate 
to  keep  the  peace,  for  selling  liquor,  or  for  other  action  in 
opposition  to  an  obnoxious  law,  becomes  his  enemy  for  life 
—when  you  consider  that  this  kind  of  enmity  finds  out,  by 
a  kind  of  magnetic  and  electric  certainty,  everybody  that 
has  been  offended  by  his  particular  action — finds  out  every 
body  that  has  been  set  aside  by  his  success — when  you  con 
sider  that  slander  spares  neither  age  nor  sex,  and  that  in 
one  of  his  last  letters,  George  Washington  complains  that 
he  had  been  spoken  of  in  terms  not  inapplicable  to  a  pick 
pocket — when  you  consider  how  easy  it  is  for  an  individual 


408         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

to  furnish  an  excuse  to  strike  an  individual's  character 
dead — it  is  proper  that  you  should  pause  to  find  some 
principle  by  which  this  jurisdiction  is  taken. 

When  I  remember  that  in  spite  of  horse-guards  and 
other  obstacles,  the  attempt  was  made  to  destroy  one  of 
the  most  illustrious  of  men,  in  the  80th  year  of  his  life — 
when  I  remember  how  many  went  to  their  graves  believing 
Junius  to  be  a  relentless  Scotchman — when  I  remember 
that  one  of  my  own  profession,  in  a  neighboring  county, 
was  persecuted  by  some  of  my  fellow-creatures  to  the  verge 
of  his  grave — when  I  remember  (I  need  not  go  back  so  far) 
how  Athens  gave  the  cup  of  poison  to  the  wisest  of  men, 
I  need  not  try  to  bring  to  your  minds  the  great,  the  op 
pressive,  the  dangerous  power  which  is  given  by  the  Legis 
lature  against  my  client.  You  give  Mr.  Withington  and 
his  associates  power  to  send  for  persons  and  papers.  You 
offer  a  premium  on  slander  !  Scandal  is  paid  for.  Grudges, 
which  have  slept  for  twenty  years,  are  unearthed,  and  borne 
down  on  the  railroads  by  cart-loads.  And  my  client's 
mouth  is  shut  as  if  he  were  dead.  For  what  cause  is  this  ? 
He  is  attacked  as  if  he  were  barely  a  fellow-creature,  tried 
for  sheep-stealing,  with  a  general  ransack  of  twenty-five 
years  of  an  active,  sometimes  unpopular,  but,  thank  God, 
he  has  that  which  can  not  be  destroyed,  a  useful  public 
and  private  life.  What  a  result !  These  are  no  bad  rea- 
sonS)  but  excellent  reasons  for  seeking  for  a  rule.  You  are 
men  of  honor.  You  do  not  understand  that  you  have 
jurisdiction  over  this  case.  If  the  magistrate  is  brought 
before  you,  with  him  you  deal.  The  magistrate  can  be 
tried.  What,  then,  is  the  rule  ?  I  entreat  you  to  take  it 
from  me,  for  consideration  and  adoption.  And  I  put  it  to 
the  universal  manhood  of  Massachusetts,  that  it  is  correct, 
that  if  the  case  before  you  is  such  that  the  magistrate  has 


REMINISCENCES     OF     11  U  F  U  S     0  H  O  A  T  E  .  409 

performed  his  official  duties  with  uniform  fidelity— if  no 
act  of  official  malversation  can  be  fastened  upon  him  by 
the  utmost  intensity  of  slander  and  malice,  (and  if  there 
can  be,  it  is  to  be  the  subject  of  impeachment,) — then 
clearly,  unless  the  character  of  the  party  becomes  such  that 
the  magistrate,  as  such,  is  destroyed — unless  the  private 
man  kills  the  Justice  of  the  Peace — unless  it  becomes  such 
that  the  sentiment  of  good  and  wise  men,  with  a  substan 
tial  universality  is,  that  he  is  unfit  to  be  a  magistrate — 
that  in  his  hands  the  law  can  not  be  administered,  and  the 
police  can  not  be  maintained — that  the  respect  and  fear  of 
law  is  overcome  and  vanquished  by  his  participation  in  it — 
when  the  private  character,  in  other  words,  appears  to  have 
destroyed  the  capacity  of  the  Judge,  there  is  no  case  for 
you. 

Suppose  it  had  been  shown  here  that  the  good  of  Lan 
caster — suppose  it  had  been  shown  here  that  the  wise  and 
good  men  of  Worcester  county,  anxious  to  administer  the 
criminal  law,  could  not  bring  criminal  cases  before  him — 
suppose  that  they  had  come  to  feel  that  he  was  a  man  so 
licentious  that  there  was  no  certainty  what  he  would  do — 
no  certainty  that  he  would  not  acquit  the  guilty  and  con 
demn  the  innooent :  and  that  whether  he  acquitted  or  con 
victed,  no  moral  sanction  followed  ;  and  that  they  felt 
therefore  that  they  could  not  bring  their  cases  before  him, 
it  might  be  proper  to  remove  him.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
before  we  have  offered  a  particle  of  testimony,  the  slanders 
of  three  and  twenty  years  of  an  active  life  are  let  loose  upon 
him  ;  his  mouth  is  shut,  instead  of  making  his  defense  at 
the  bar,  a  chained  and  silenced  man.  And  at  the  end  of 
such  an  examination  as  this,  there  is  only  a  divided  senti 
ment  about  one  phase  of  his  private  character.  When  it 
appears  at  the  end  of  such  an  inquisition  that  his  position 

18 


410          REMINISCENCES     OF    BUFUS     OHO  ATE. 

in  private  life  is  elevated — that  his  associates  are  of  the 
highest  character — that  he  stands  unsuspected  of  vice,  of 
intemperance,  of  unchastity,y  of  profaneness,  of  breach  of 
law  ;  when  he  stands  a  scrupulous  observer  of  every  pro 
priety  and  of  every  ordinance  that  good  men  love  and 
respect ;  when  such  an  inquisition  shows  that  his  good 
magistracy  and  fairness  are  admitted  by  all  but  one  man — • 
one  Mr.  Thurston  ;  when  he  is  the  only  one  of  all  the  Jus 
tices  of  the  Peace  before  whom  the  temperance  men  come  ; 
I  ask  you  to  consider  that  when  he  has  had  three  or  four 
business  transactions,  and  has  come  out  of  them,  his  ene 
mies  thinking  .him  dishonest  and  he  thinking  them  dis 
honest  ;  and  then  there  has  followed  all  those  bitter, 
resentful,  and  malevolent  feelings  which  have  been 
exhibited ;  and  the  result  before  you,  in  his  own  town, 
is,  only  a  divided  opinion  in  one  village,  a  sentiment 
against  him  in  another,  and  a  clear  sentiment  in  his  favor 
in  a  third  ;  I  submit  without  disrespect  towards  any  of 
the  Committee,  that  it  is  just  as  barbarous,  and  just  as 
unconstitutional,  and  just  as  absurd  to  say  that  he  should 
be  removed  from  his  position  on  this  account,  as  to  say 
that  because  he  is  not  six  feet  in  his  shoes,  and  begins  to 
be  decidedly  bald  on  the  top  of  his  head,  he  should  be 
hanged.  Exactly  !  Exactly  ! 

On  the  director  of  the  bank — on  the  deacon  of  the 
church — on  the  guardian  of  children — on  the  librarian 
of  a  society — you  have  not  the  power  to  lay  the  weight 
of  your  hand.  But  the  Magistrate,  as  was  eloquently  said 
in  the  other  branch  of  the  Legislature  [the  Senate,]  some 
years  ago,  "  his  countenance,  you  may  change  and  send 
him  away." 

But  the  trustee  of  the  bank,  the  guardian,  the  libra 
rian,  the  deacon,  you  can  not  touch.  And  unless  the 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.          411 

guardian,  the  librarian,  the  trustee,  and  the  deacon, 
have  destroyed  the  Justice  of  the  Peace,  you  will  send 
him  home  unscathed.  I  respectfully  submit  that  that 
is  the  true  position  of  the  case. 

Remember  Lord  Ashburton,  the  glory  of  the  bar,  who 
said,  "  Let  us  be  silent  when  these  illustrious  men  may 
speak  by  the  codes  which  are  their  monuments,  and  their 
unblemished  lives/'  The  Legislature  should  be  the  last 
place  for  slander  to  be  nourished.  Private  character  should 
be  safe  there.  Leave  it  to  the  newspapers,  and  not  to  the 
best  ones,  either.  Expect  the  best  newspapers  to  stand  by 
private  character.  Strike  the  magistrate  dead  ;  hold  an 
inquest  over  him,  and  lay  him  out — the  magistrate,  you 
may  order  him  to  be  buried. 

And  now  I  come,  under  this  view  of  the  rule,  to  state 
exactly  what  I  regard  Mr.  Carter's  case  to  be.  I  will  ex 
tenuate  nothing.  And  I  do  not  believe  my  brother  will 
expect  that  "  aught  should  be  set  down  in  malice."  I  deal 
with  the  case  of  a  man  who  may  have  made  mistakes.  But 
I  think  that  the  Magistrate  should  be  marked  for  sterling 
worth.  I  could  wish  that  all  could  stand  up  and  give  as 
good  an  account  as  he  can  on  a  trial  of  twenty- two  years 
of  life. — Mr.  C.  then  discussed  the  details  of  the  evidence. 

THE     CRAFTS     CASE. 

This  was  a  case  where  it  was  alleged  that  a  vessel  was 
cast  away  on  the  beach  of  Cape  Cod  by  the  captain,  in  col 
lusion  with  her  owner,  Mr.  Crafts,  to  obtain  the  insurance. 
One  Wilson  was  the  chief  witness  for  the  Government. 
He  turned  States'  evidence,  and  swore  that  there  was  such 
a  conspiracy.  He  corroborated  it  by  some  signatures  of 
Crafts,  which  the  defense  denied  were  ever  signed  to  such 
documents.  The  great  object  of  Mr.  Choate's  arguments 


412     KEMINISCENCES  OF  KUFUS  CHOATE. 

was  to  show  that  Wilson  was  unreliable  and  a  knave. 
During  the  trial  he  had  subjected  him  to  a  very  long, 
minute,  and  severe  cross-examination,  under  which  the 
witness  had  not  appeared  well,  and  which  showed  his  life 
to  have  been  generally  of  very  doubtful  character.  The 
following  extracts  I  wrote  down  at  the  time  of  the  argu 
ment. 

Mr.  Choate  commenced  by  reminding  the  Jury  that  this 
defendant  was  a  business  man  of  good  character,  who  now 
stood  in  peril  of  his  character,  his  honor — all.  Any  of  you 
might  be  in  the  same  situation.  Suspicions  are  excited 
from  some  cause  when  your  ship  goes  to  pieces  ;  you  are 
examined  in  preliminary  hearings,  where  not  one  word  is 
said  in  defense,  but  all  evidence  tending  to  inculpate  is 
produced  ;  another  Wilson — if  the  government  could  find 
another  Wilson — is  put  upon  the  stand,  declaring  him 
self  a  villain,  and  you  his  comrade  in  the  villainy  ;  and 
thus  you  stand  condemned  without  a  hearing. 

The  presumption  of  innocence  he  then  alluded  to.  "  It 
is  equal  to  one  good  witness/'  he  said.  "  It  attends  this 
prisoner  like  a  guardian  angel." 

The  character  of  the  crime  was  then  considered  ;  so 
rare,  so  dangerous  in  its  execution, — to  lay  the  bones  of  a 
ship  upon  a  beach  in  a  storm — so  liable  to  detection  ;  rarer 
of  occurrence  even  than  Treason. 

The  previous  unimpeachable  character  of  the  defend 
ant,  evidenced  by  fifty-nine  witnesses.  The  defendant  had 
no  earthly  motive  for  such  a  deed ;  the  captain  had  no 
motive.  The  charge  was  sustained,  he  said,  by  two  parcels 
of  evidence — Wilson,  and  the  papers  of  Wilson. 

Wilson  is  a  discredited  witness.  But  the  great  law  prin 
ciple,  founded  on  the  best  experience  of  humanity,  declares, 
that  even  when  a  States'  witness  appears  most  favorably, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.        413 

still  he  must  bo  corroborated.  Why  ?  Because  his  story 
is  influenced  necessarily  by  hope  or  fear  ;  and  in  a  man's 
own  confession  of  guilt  even,  if  those  motives  appear  to 
have  been  used,  the  confession  is  rejected. 

Now  here  is  this  Wilson  skulking  about,  and  lying 
concealed  after  the  vessel  went  to  pieces,  the  perspiration 
bathing  his  brow  at  every  knock.  This  agony  continued 
till  flesh  and  blood  could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  has  every 
motive  to  tell  a  story  to  the  Government,  which,  by  incul 
pating  another,  may  clear  him — as  the  drowning  man 
struggles  for  that  last  plank  with  his  brother,  in  the  mid- 
ocean,  which  will  hold  but  one.  Having  first  told  this,  he 
must  swear  to  it.  The  theory  of  its  reception  at  all  is  that 
witness  is  penitent.  But  if  he  be  corroborated,  no  corrob- 
oration  will  render  reliable  the  testimony  of  a  man  whose 
whole  life  is  shown  to  be  so  black — to  whom  cheating  and 
lies  have  been  always  familiar — who  would  have  charged 
the  firm  of  Dame  &  Raymond  with  this  guilt  had  he  pos 
sessed  any  signature  of  theirs.  If  his  story  were  to  be  be 
lieved,  no  one  of  us  is  secure.  We  must  fly  each  other  as 
from  the  avenger  of  blood. 

Again,  (the  advocate  said,)  he  has  perjured  himself 
seven  times  on  the  stand.  You  saw  it  in  his  manner. 
Was  it  grave,  contrite,  the  tears  and  the  truth  delivered 

o  /  / 

together  ?     No,  nothing  of  the  kind. 

Then  his  matter,  also.  Was  that  upon  its  face  like 
truth  ? 

He  gives  a  mass  of  unimportant  truths,  but  interwoven 
with  the  truth,  inwoven  with  the  texture,  running  all 
through  it,  is  the  scarlet  tissue  of  falsehood.  It  is  the  drug 
that  poisons  the  whole  cup. 

He  put  a  humorous  supposition  in  illustration  of  a 
false  witness  mixing  true  with  false  ; — If  a  man  among  the 


414        K  E  M  I  X  I  S  C  E  N  C  E  S     OF     R  U  F  U  8     C  H  0  A  T  E  . 

audience  picked  a  purse  from  a  pocket  among  you,  (the 
audience  will  pardon  the  supposition,)  and  to  clear  himself 
should  offer  to  swear  that  he  was  prompted  by  a  professor 
of  Harvard,  he  could  tell  accurately  the  position  of  things 
even  to  that  oar  upon  the  wall,  Gentlemen  of  the  jury, 
which  hits  the  Marshal's  head  ;  suspended  there  in  token 
of  our  maritime  jurisdiction.  Every  thing  immaterial 
would  be  all  right  ;  every  thing  material,  false. 

No  man  of  woman  born  is  to  be  convicted  on  such  evi 
dence.  By  such  testimony  the  greatest  of  the  heathen  fell. 
By  such  evidence  England  and  Ireland  and  France  were 
deluged  by  the  blood  of  more  than  one  Keign  of  Terror. 

See  how  convenient  his  memory  is.  He  tells  you  this 
story  down  to  just  the  point  he  wishes,  then  his  memory, 
accurate  thus  far,  breaks  down — is  suddenly  paralyzed  ; 
he  can't  remember  any  more  !  But  these  events  of  which 
he  is  speaking  are  connected  inseparably  by  a  law  of  asso 
ciation  of  ideas  ;  he  can  not  remember  one  without  the 
other  ;  any  more  than  he  could  remember  that  he  saw  one 
side  of  Captain  Smith  and  not  the  other. 

It  is  a  great  privilege  that  the  government  must  prove 
their  case — a  privilege  so  ancient  and  admirable.  It  is  in 
the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts.  It  is  in  the  Federal 

Constitution. 

But  they  bring  witnesses  who  now,  knowing  that  the 
ship  was  lost,  say  that,  looking  at  the  facts,  the  observa 
tions  on  the  ship,  the  reckoning,  etc.,  the  captain  could 
not  honestly  have  been  so  deceived  as  he  was,  in  regard  to 
the  actual  position  of  his  vessel.  And  I  suppose  if  the 
philanthropy  of  two  hemispheres  shall  find  only  the  grave 
in  which  Sir  John  Franklin's  body  has  warmed  a  place, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  415 

every  coxcomb  clerk  will  pass  an  opinion,  judging  by  after 
facts,  and  say  precisely  where  the  error  in  judgment  was. 
But  he  was  as  good  a  Captain  as  ever  walked  between  stem 
and  stern  ;  and  I  say  he  was  deceived,  utterly  deceived,  as 
to  the  lay  of  his  craft. 

Wilson  has  told  us  where  he  takes  his  afternoon  conso 
lations  (drinks).  He  has  told  us  his  barbarous,  his  atro 
cious  story.  He  has  contradicted  himself  again  and  again. 
Why  don't  he  pay  back  the  moneys  he  has  ill-got  ?  He 
is  so  much  of  a  villain  that  he  wouldn't  if  he  could, .  and  so 
much  of  a  bankrupt  that  he  couldn't  if  he  would.  From 
one  of  his  vices,  gentlemen,  learn  all. 

The  Virtues,  like  the  Graces,  grow  and  go  together 

On  that  alleged  birthday  of  the  conspiracy,  where  was 
this  Captain  ?  That  flag  waved  over  him,  from  under 
which,  now,  thank  God,  no  sailor  shall  ever  be  taken 
more  ! 

Mr.  Choate  got  a  great  laugh  at  the  expense  of  Mr. 
Robert  Rantoul,  the  U.  S.  District  Attorney,  while  com 
menting  on  the  hesitancy  of  Wilson  to  say  how  he  came  to 
be  a  State's  witness — how  he  got  into  communication  with 
the  government  at  all.  "My  brother  Rantoul,"  said  he, 
"  told  this  rascal  what  to  say."  Rantoul  sprang  to  his  feet, 
inquiring  if  he  meant  to  charge  him  with  instigating  the 
witness  to  speak  falsely  ?  "No,"  burst  out  Choate,  "you 
told  him,  to  speak  the  truth  ;  and  I  saw  you  do  it  !" 

Now,  this  Wilson  is  wholly  uncorroborated  and  dis 
credited.  I  brand  him  a  vagabond  and  a  villain.  They 
brought  him  to  curse,  and  behold  he  hath  blessed  us  aJfn- 
fj  ether  ' 


416        REMINISCENCES    OF     R  U  F  U  S    C  II  0  A  T  E . 

"  And  now,  Wilson  being  out  of  the  case,  as"  (glanc 
ing  his  fiery  eyes  round  upon  the  stolid  witness,  who  sat 
near  the  District  Attorney,)  "  he  ought  to  be  out  of  the 
Court  House, — we  will  consider  what  proofs  remain  to  be 
discussed. 

CAPTAIN  MARTIN'S  CASE.     MAY,  1850. 

[I  have  preserved  a  few  of  Mr.  Choate's  opening  words  in  the  argument  in  Captain  Mar 
tin's  case,  where  he  also  was  indicted  for  casting  away  his  vessel  to  obtain  the  insur 
ance.] 

All  that  this  defendant  has  suffered,  gentlemen,  is 
nothing  to  what  follows  a  conviction  ;  yet  if  he  could  have 
anticipated  the  first,  he  would  have  prayed  to  die. 

Try  this  case,  not  by  vulgar  and  newspaper  and  street 
corner  talk,  but  by  the  evidence  actually  in,  as  you  would 
wish  your  sailor  boy  son  to  be  tried  ;  and,  my  life  for  his, 
he  goes  free.  I  pledge  you  my  honor,  I  have  no  other  wish 
than  to  try  the  case  on  its  legal  and  fair  face.  The  untir 
ing  patience,  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  have  manifested, 
I  shall  rely  on  to  the  close. 

The  presumption  of  innocence  is  a  witness  for  the  pris 
oner.  It  goes  with  every  parcel  of  evidence  you  examine. 
It  is  so  with  any  one,  especially  with  one  of  the  char 
acter  proved  by  this  man.  Far  different  is  the  benevolence 
of  the  law,  from  the  vulgar  recklessness  with  which  sus 
picions  are  caught  at  as  certainty. 

APPLICATION   FOR   A   RAILROAD   BETWEEN    SOUTH   DEDHAM 
AND    BOSTON. 

[Extracts  from  the  speech  of  Honorable  Eufns  Choate  before  a  Legislative  Committee, 
Boston,  March  26,  1S50;  from  Phonographic  report  by  Dr.  James  W.  Stone.] 

Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen, — I  hope  I  shall  bo 
thought  guilty  of  no  extravagance  when  I  say  so, — we 


REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS    C II  GATE.          417 

afford  to  this  Committee  and  to  this  Legislature  what  a 
great  English  orator  once  called  in  Parliament  "a  fatal 
and  critical  opportunity  of  glory/'  A  juncture  in  the  in 
dustrial  and  public  fortunes  and  conditions  of  Massachu 
setts,  has  palpably  arrived,  and  is  passing  away.  "  There 
is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of"  State,  "which  taken  at  the  flood 
leads  on  to  fortune/'  It  is  in  your  reason  and  your  equity 
to  say  if  that  tide  is  not  at  this  moment  rising  fast  and 
strong  and  soon  to  be  away. 

What  is  exactly  the  proposition  that  we  bring  before 
you  ?  The  general  character  of  -the  proposal,  and  the  gen 
eral  reason  for  it,  Mr.  Chairman  and  gentlemen,  is  this.  I 
entreat  your  attention  to  a  large,  and  not  too  large,  but 
only  an  adequate  apprehension  of  it  in  its  general  character, 
and  upon  the  general  reason  that  it  rests  upon.  It  is  ex 
actly  this  ;  and  I  mean  only  to  speak  the  words  of  truth 
and  soberness  in  announcing  and  maintaining  it.  Its  gen 
eral  character  is,  that  it  is  a  work  towards  the  completion 
of  railroads  through  the  county  of  Norfolk  to  the  Hudson 
river,  to  the  shores  of  Lake  Erie,  a  line  of  six  hundred 
miles,  and  then  to  the  upper  Mississippi,  a  line  of 
eleven  hundred  miles.  This  is  the  general  character  of 
the  proposal,  and  this  in  a  general  way  is  what  we  re 
spectfully  ask  your  aid  to  do  ;  that  is,  to  undertake  a  work 
intended  to  complete  the  railroad  communication  from  Bos 
ton  to  the  uncounted  wealth  of  the  West,  and  leading  by 
probable  tendency  to  such  completeness  ;  not  certainly,  sir 
(nobody  pretends  to  speak  so  extravagantly)  ;  but  we  ask 
you  to  extend  your  hands  from  Boston  to  the  waters  of  the 
West  in  furtherance  of  a  plan  leading  to  consummation  by 
probable  tendency. 

To  ask  you  to  undertake  so  magnificent  an  enterprise 


418  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

were  no  doubt  a  dazzling  and  a  too  formidable  proposal. 
But  I  entreat  you  to  take  it  with  you  that  the  pecu 
liarity  of  this  is,  that  you  are  not  asked  to  build  the 
wide  arch  of  the  range.,  but  only  to  insert  the  keystone  ; 
nay,  not  so  much  as  that !  not  to  do  that,  but  only 
to  set  off  by  metes  and  bounds  the  right  place  for  the 
buttress  to  be  laid,  on  which  one  end  of  it  may  repose 
for  ever. 

You,  therefore,  see  by  what  grand  peculiarities  it  is 
recommended.  We  ask  you  to  do,  no  doubt,  an  act  which 
is  to  yield  a  vast  and  most  incalculable  amount  of  public 
good,  but  which  will  certainly  yield  a  series  of  minor,  and 
yet  great  benefits,  at  every  step  that  we  take.  We  ask  you 
then  to  take  part  in  a  great  work  undoubtedly,  but  it  is 
not  the  building  of  an  edifice,  every  story  of  which  must 
be  completed  to  the  roof  and  to  the  attic,  or  else  all  will 
be  useless.  It  is  more  like  reclaiming  a  whole  country  to 
cultivation,  where,  if  all  is  not  done,  every  successful  acre 
that  is  plowed,  yields  its  own  peculiar  harvest,  and  insures 
a  certain  gain.  Such,  in  a  general  way,  is  the  nature  of 
the  proposal  which  we  bring  to  the  notice  of  the  Commit 
tee  to-day. 

And  now,  in  coming  to  the  consideration  of  this  subject, 
I  believe,  sir,  that  I  may  spare  myself  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  by  taking  it  for  granted  that  if  what  we  ask  to 
have  done  would  secure,  or  would  go  by  probable  tendency 
to  secure  a  railroad  free  and  untrammeled  to  the  shores  of 
the  Erie,  or  to  the  shores  of  the  Hudson,  or  only  to  Bristol 
itself, — if  that  which  we  propose  will  go  by  a  reasonable 
and  probable  tendency  to  secure  this  result,  and  if  it 
is  also  shown  that  what  we  ask  is  necessary  to  secure 
this,  and  that  it  will  not  be  had  to  a  reasonable  prob- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.          419 

ability  without  it,  you  would  grant  it  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

Of  mere  area, — let  me  say  in  advance, — for  a  vessel  to 
lie  at  anchor,  you  have  enough  for  a  thousand  years  of  the 
empire  of  trade.  And  for  the  ten  thousand  masts  of  your 
improved  commerce,  I  shall  ask  whether  it  is  not  the  true 
policy  of  your  navigating  interest,  to  barter  a  few  acres  of 
their  line  to  render  the  productions  of  the  West  more 
readily  brought  to  our  harbor,  to  cast,  as  in  the  customs  of 
Venice,  its  treasures  into  the  lap  of  our  undiminished  com 
merce  ? 

I  have  barely  indicated  the  answer  that  I  mean  to  give 
to  them,  and,  I  repeat,  that  with  a  line  of  that  description 
— all  that  can  be  expected  of  you  is  this  only.  I  wish  I 
could  take  you  with  the  respect  that  is  due  from  a  constitu 
ent  to  his  representatives,  by  the  hand,  and  ask  you  whether 
the  difficulties  you  are  laboring  under  are  not  these.  The 
question  is  this  :  will  this  road  contribute  by  any  proba 
ble  tendency,  to  a  road  extending  as  far  as  Erie,  or  even  to 
the  Hudson,  or  even  to  Bristol  ?  Or  will  it  in  a  larger 
consideration  assist  such  a  tendency  ?  To  these  two  topics 
I  mean  very  briefly  to  address  myself. 

I  do  not  propose,  although  this  is  a  dazzling  topic,  to 
detain  you  a  moment  on  a  display  of  the  importance  of  this 
new  railway  connection  to  Erie,  and  from  thence  to  the 
West.  The  prospect  is  flattering,  but  it  is  too  easy  for  us, 
and  too  easy  and  too  plain.  All  that,  I  take  for  granted. 
And  instead  of  indulging  me  with  declamation  for  two 
minutes,  you  desire  that  I  should  advance  at  once  to  the 
question,  whether  or  not  the  little  thing  that  we  ask  will 
not  reasonably  tend  to  give  the  connection  desired,  and 
whether  it  is  n^essarv. 


420          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUTUS     CHOATE. 

It  would  be  of  course  agreeable  to  pause  for  a  moment. 
I  should  be  glad  to  follow  my  friend  who  has  been  speak 
ing  on  the  wrong  side,  against  the  tenor  of  his  whole  leg- 
islatiye  experience  [laughter]  ;  but  as  a  Massachusetts  law 
yer  and  a  Massachusetts  citizen,  speaking  to  public  men  on 
the  important  connection  of  this  harbor  with  the  uncounted 
wealth  of  the  West,  let  us  leave  that  for  the  Commencement 
performers  (and  you  and  I,  Mr.  Chairman,  remember  them 
a  good  many  years  ago),  to  give  their  fancy  declamations 
about  it.  It  would  be  an  object  for  Massachusetts,  by  the 
side  of  which  all  other  industrial  objects  fade  and  fail, 
to  open  a  communication  with  the  West,  not  to  super 
sede  the  great  Western  Eailroad, — God  forbid  that  we 
should  corne  in  competition  with  that ! — but  along  the 
whole  width  of  crowded  and  western  Connecticut.  I 
thought  my  learned  brother  would  take  the  butter  out  of 
my  mouth.  Why,  we  should  give  him  butter  enough  to 
win  even  his  assistance.  The  great  amount  of  agricultural 
products  !  nobody  is  even  now  behind  his  head  to  call  it  in 
question  ;  I  wish  I  could  raise  doubt  enough  to  call  that 
in  question  of  which  my  heart  is  full.  [Sensation.]  Strange 
indeed  if  in  this  State  House,  in  this  Senate  Chamber, 
among  these  immortal  records  of  this  policy  in  this  behalf 
— here  in  this  Senate  Chamber,  where  the  sobriety  and 
wisdom  of  Massachusetts  have  for  so  many  years  declared, 
by  a  series  of  public  and  practical  actions,  that  what  the 
industrial  interests  of  Massachusetts  demand  as  the  indis 
pensable  coadjutor  of  her  progress,  demand  and  prescribe, 
is  the  most  multiplied  and  easy  connection  with  the  West 
— strange  indeed  if  that  should  be  refused.  Those  inter 
ests  demand  and  prescribe  that  she  must  have  an  interior, 
or  stop  short  of  her  manifest  destiny  !  and  as  nature  has 
not  given  her  a  water  power,  and  as  her  art  must  build  it, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E  .     421 

it  would  be  strange  indeed  if  upon  this  floor,  by  this  Leg 
islature,  a  proposal  to  add  another  tie  between  the  East 
and  the  West  should  be  heard  with  disfavor,  or  any  thing 
but  the  most  anxious  and  solicitous  desire  on  the  part  of 
the  lawgivers  to  forward  and  assist  it  by  every  means  in 
their  power. 

It  is  not  a  dream  of  enthusiasm.  And  let  me  remind 
you  there  is  but  one  more  tie  to  be  made.  For  such  ties 
we  go,  as  the  settled  policy  of  this  State,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Timidity  may  doubt.  Procrastination  may  think 
it  is  too  early.  Simplicity  may  lift  up  its  hands  and  say  it 
is  too  good  to  be  true.  Credulity  may  shrug  shoulders 
and  lift  eyebrows  at  the  vastness  of  the  idea  ;  but  it  is  too 
late  to  tell  the  Statesmen  of  Massachusetts  that  any  thing 
is  beyond  her  means,  or  energy,  or  daring,  for  the  sake  of 
her  recognized  interests.  We  stand  here  in  behalf  of  in 
strumentalities  for  her  benefit.  There  can  be  no  running 
a  parallel  of  contrast  between  these  connections  on  account 
of  distance  ;  as  if  a  hundred  thousand  accommodations  did 
not  make  up  for  the  difference  in  distance. 

I  can  only  attribute  the  argument  of  the  learned  gen 
tleman, — prompted  I  know  not  by  what,  except  by  his 
salary,  and  I  hope  it  is  quite  ample,  [laughter,] — to  the 
necessity  of  his  case. 

"  Nitor  in  adversum" — contention  with  difficulties — 
is  the  motto  of  our  State. 

If,  therefore,  Mr.  Chairman, — if  you  will  pardon  me  for 
having  detained  you  so  long,  I  promise  you  that  I  will  not 
detain  you  half  as  long  on  any  subject  which  is  half  so  easy 
and  half  so  showy  as  this — if  there  is  any  road  presented, 
do  not  hold  us  to  a  demonstration.  No  good  policy  is  pre 
sented,  which  can  be  positively  demonstrated  to  you,  who 


422         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

hold  the  administration  of  this  State  to-day.  And  if  there 
is  presented  to  a  Massachusetts  Legislature  an  immediate 
connection  with  the  heart  of  the  upper  valley  of  the  West, 
it  will  be  appreciated  by  you,  that  it  deserves  the  greatest 
solicitude  and  the  highest  favor  •  and  I  feel  that  you  will 
be  in  no  degree  in  danger  of  being  turned  aside  by  my 
brother's  subterranean  road,  five  feet  under  the  marshes  ; 
I  shall  not  fear  that  you  will  be  turned  aside  cither  by  epi 
cureanism  or  by  philosophy — falsely  so  called — from  look 
ing  it  full  in  the  face.  Will  you  look  at  it  with  the  same 
degree  of  care  with  which  the  Eoman  Senate  used  to 
receive  and  act  on,  for  so  many  hundred  years,  every  pro 
posal,  every  chance,  every  pretext  of  annexing  to  her  do 
mains  another  province,  wherever  it  offered  itself,  in  Persia, 
or  in  Britain  ?  A  long,  deep  policy,  transmitted  from  gen 
eration  to  generation,  according  to  maxims,  durable  in  her 
case,  but  not  founded,  as  in  this  instance,  or  an  innocent 
wisdom  ! 

Now,  sir,  we  offer  you  a  railroad  of  this  character,  and 
it  is  not  by  a  few  phrases  about  magnificence,  that  we  are 
to  be  driven  from  it.  It  was  not  by  such  phrases  that  the 
Western  Railroad  was  built  or  prevented.  We  offer  you, 
in  its  largest  form,  a  new  communication.  In  its  grandest 
form  it  is  every  thing  that  I  have  stated.  What  is  this 
that  is  too  big  for  our  grasp  ?  It  sets  off  from  the  waters 
of  this  harbor,  from  the  foot  of  Summer  street  in  this  city. 
If  we  are  not  to  bridge  the  waters  of  that  harbor,  it  sets  off 
from  South  Boston.  In  three  miles  it  reaches  a  line  of 
railroad  which  is  chartered  this  day  to  Chicago,  eleven 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  from  whence  it  is  attached  by 
canal  to  the  Upper  Mississippi.  It  crosses  thousands  of 
miles  of  other  railroads,  eleven  hundred  and  forty-one  miles 
of  which  are  in  operation  ;  canals,  a  great  many  ;  rivers, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E .        423 

more  than  I  can  number,  none  of  them  on  this  side  of 
what  I  may  call  our  own  Hudson.  It  traverses  Connecti 
cut  and  the  rich  counties  of  New  York,  takes  in  some  of 
the  counties  of  Pennsylvania,  stretches  along  the  shore 
of  the  lakes,  connects  with  the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  and 
when  it  has  arrived  at  Chicago  by  the  lake,  the  canal  and 
the  Illinois,  it  is  in  the  center  of  the  West,  and  the  shaft 
has  reached  trie  bottom  of  the  mine  of  virgin  coal. 

Three  miles  of  new  charter,  fourteen  miles  of  new  road, 
are  all  that  we  ask.  We  build  it  ourselves.  There  are 
circumstances  at  work,  which,  by  a  probable  tendency,  en 
sure  its  completion.  We  can  guarantee  for  nothing  beyond 
this.  We  are  victims  of  a  great  error,  if  we  are  refused. 
But  if  the  charter  and-  the  road  will  produce  this  result 
naturally,  we  ask  you  to  grant  them. 

Thus  far  I  consider  myself  to  have  done  nothing  but  re 
peat  the  merest  commonplace  in  the  world.  And  I  have 
only  to  beg  your  pardon  for  the  time  taken,  and  to  advance 
to  the  real  question  in  this  case,  and  that  is  this  :  Will 
the  establishment  of  the  road  from  Thompson  to  come  to 
Boston,  contribute  appreciably  and  probably  to  this  or  any 
important  part  of  this  series  of  public  good  ?  That  is  the 
whole  question.  Will  it  probably  do  so  much  towards  it 
that  the  little  we  ask  of  you  in  order  to  effect  it  ought  for 
a  moment  to  be  withheld  ? 

Now,  gentlemen,  I  submit,  first,  (for  we  now  come  to 
that  which  is  debatable,  and  that  which  is  decisive  if  we 
maintain  it,)  that  the  road  from  Erie  to  the  Hudson  will 
be  probably  completed  within  eighteen  months.  The  flood 
will  be  running  this  way  within  eighteen  months.  The 
road  from  Erie  to  the  Hudson  is  no  dream  of  an  enthu 
siast  ;  he  is  the  wisest  man  and  that  is  the  wisest  State, 


424      REMINISCENCES     OF     E  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E  . 

which  shall  be  that  day  with  its  "  lamps  trimmed,  burn 
ing,  and  full  of  oil,"  to  meet  it.  Mr.  Chairman,  "hear  me 
for  my  cause"  on  this  subject.  They  go  about  the  streets 
to  say  this  is  a  dream,  but  many  ignoramuses  don't  know. 
It  is  a  great  way  off.  They  don't  know  as  there  is  such  a 
place  as  Dunkirk.  Not  being  charged  with  a  great  and 
solemn  duty,  they  do  not  know  and  they  do  not  investigate. 
Now,  sir,  probability  is  all  that  we  can  be  required  to 
furnish.  Of  that  there  is  certainly  enough,  and  so  much 
we  do  clearly  lay  before  you. 

And  now  I  have  most  earnestly  to  request  your  atten 
tion  to  a  proof  of  the  detail.  Here  the  probabilities  are  to 
guide  us.  I  respectfully,  as  one  of  your  constituents,  hold 
you  up  probabilities.  If  I  can  show  a  probable  case,  I 
believe  that  I  charge  you  with  a  duty ;  or  rather  I  have  the 
infinite  pleasure  of  laying  before  you  an  opportunity  of 
wearing  a  high  official  honor. 

The  earth  has  bubbles  as  the  water  has.  As  soon  as 
that  plan  of  the  Air  Line  Railroad  had  subsided,  Hartford 
resumed  the  purpose  of  putting  out  her  arm,  and  from  that 
lime  to  this,  its  government  conducted  every  single  step 
with  a  strict  reference  to  the  Erie  road  on  the  one  side,  and 
the  Boston  terminus  on  the  other.  Hartford  set  to  work, 
raised  $120,000  of  money,  put  out  one  of  her  hands  east, 
and  another  fifty  miles  west  towards  the  Hudson.  And 
there  she  stands,  "  ulterior  is  ripcz  amore"  as  we  have  it 
in  the  sixth  book  of  the  JEneid,  and  asks  you  to  take  her 
to  your  arms. 

Such  are  the  arguments,  such  the  grounds,  and  such 
the  efforts.  That  it  is  not  dead  this  day,  you  know  from 
the  testimony  before  you.  A  soberer  project  then  this  line, 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE.  425 

the  sobriety  of  Connecticut  herself  need  not  and  could  not 
demand.  Such  is  the  judgment  of  all  that  it  is  practicable, 
expedient,  and  sure  to  be  built ;  and  I  feel  that  I  should 
bo  only  sacrificing  the  interests  of  my  clients  to  a  weak  re 
gard  to  my  own  disposition  not  to  be  tedious  to  you,  if  I 
did  not  pause  till  the  candles  come,  in  order  to  read  the 
precise  details  to  prove  that  if  you  give  Connecticut  the 
lift  of  your  finger,  the  kind  gift  of  an  independent  breath, 
and  above  all,  the  priceless  gift  of  the  deep  water  at  last, 
she  will  as  surely  give  you  a  railroad  to  the  West  as  the 
sun  that  has  jusfc  gone  down  will  rise  to-morrow.  I  will 
wait  a  few  moments  for  the  lights.  (Intermission.) 

To  enforce  the  cause  of  my  clients  I  have  been  some 
what  tediously  illustrating  this  public  sentiment  in  Con 
necticut,  because  it  will  be  likely  to  be  permanent.  I  have 
said  that  it  is  sober  and  practical ;  and  such  was  the  judg 
ment  of  the  best  witnesses  in  that  connection,  independent 
of  any  thing  going  to  the  West.  There  can  be  no  doubt, 
whatever  may  be  said,  of  the  Lackawanna  and  other 
Pennsylvania  coal  brought  over  that  road — there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  she  herself  will  have  her  coal  brought  over  this 
road,  certainly  as  far  as  Hartford. 

But  to  argue  in  detail,  is  only  enfeebling  the  subject 
itself.  Sir,  for  the  very  reason  that  where  land  and  deep 
water  meet,  and  a  transit  is  thereby  effected  ;  for  the  rea 
son  that  such  a  place  becomes  a  great  City,  the  necessity  of 
such  connection  is  clearly  proved.  The  closer  the  railroad 
terminus  comes  to  the  water,  the  better.  Where  have  the 
great  Cities  of  the  world  been  built  ?  Always  at  some 
point  where  the  labors  and  the  travels  of  the  land  meet  the 
labors  and  the  travels  of  the  sea.  Wherever  there  is  a  spot 
at  which  the  caravan,  or  the  river,  the  steamboat,  or  the 


426   REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

baggage  wagon.,  or  the  locomotive,  can  bring  the  produc 
tions  of  the  land  and  deliver  them  to  the  carrier  of  the  sea, 
or  wherever  the  carrier  of  the  sea  can  bring  the  productions 
of  distant  lands  to  the  locomotive,  or  to  the  other  means 
of  inland  communications,  there  ever  is  a  great  commercial 
city.  New  Orleans  marks  such  a  contact  as  this  ;  New 
York  another.  Others  are  exhibited  in  ancient  Tyre,  and 
Alexandria.,  and  Carthage  ;  where  the  caravan  came  to  the 
waters  of  their  great  inland  sea.  London  and  Venice,  and 
Liverpool  mark  other  instances  of  such  a  connection.  The 
closer  the  contact  of  the  land  is  to  the  carrier  of  the  sea, 
the  better  for  them ;  the  less  the  cost  of  transportation,  the 
less  is  spent  in  lading  and  unlading,  the  less  damage  is 
effected  in  carriages  burthened  by  freight  and  burthened  by 
delay,  and  the  better  for  them  all.  I  feel,  sir,  that  I  ought 
to  apologize  for  pressing  such  a  topic  as  this  on  the  Com 
mittee.  But  really,  when  I  consider  that  I  am  doing  what 
I  can  in  advancing  the  last  great  link  with  the  West,  I  do 
not  think  I  am  doins:  too  much. 


b 


I  have  come  now  to  one  element  of  alleged  evil,  and 
only  one,  on  which  I  think  this  Legislature  should  pause 
a  moment.  And  I  do  not  deny  that  we  should  all  pause 
on  that  one  element.  And  let  it  be  examined  carefully. 
I  refer  to  the  alleged  damage  done  to  the  harbor  of  Boston. 
This  is  a  topic  of  vast  importance  and  demanding  your  best 
thoughts.  Tried  by  that  light,  and  in  that  way,  I  submit 
that  it  does  not  present  the  slightest  possible  objection  in 
the  way  of  our  undertaking.  Now,  sir,  on  the  general  sub 
ject  of  the  importance  of  our  harbor,  it  is  not  necessary  for 
me  to  say  a  word.  This  topic  is  elementary,  and  we  are 
all  of  one  mind.  But  when,  on  the  other  hand,  when  start- 
ins:  with  the  universal  concession  of  the  importance  nf  pro- 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  427 

serving  the  harbor,  they  come  to  argue  that  not  the  slightest 
displacement  of  the  water  is  to  be  made  for  any  cause,  then 
I  submit  that  it  becomes  simply  absurd  and  extravagant ; 
and  conducts,  like  all  generalities,  to  no  conclusion  at  all. 
To  all  such  conclusions,  I  submit  that  the  best  answer  is 
the  past  policy  of  the  State.  What  are  harbors  ever  so 
spacious  without  an  interior  country,  whose  treasures  may 
come  to  mingle  with  the  treasures  of  the  seas  ?  What 
were  Alexandria  or  Tyre  without  their  commerce  ?  The 
true  interests  of  commerce  prescribe  that  a  natural  or  an 
artificial  river  should  pour  its  treasures  into  her  lap.  It 
may  be  necessary  to  exchange  so  much  of  the  space  oc 
cupied  by  the  spiles  in  the  river,  for  the  tonnage  which  that 
railroad  may  contribute  to  the  business  of  the  harbor. 

The  truth  is,  and  I  hasten  on,  obviously,  that  instead 
of  indulging  in  any  general  declamation  on  the  subject  of 
the  harbor, — and  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  general  declama 
tion  has  been  uttered  here, — instead  of  indulging  in  any  vain 
rhetoric,  we  are  to  deal  with  cases  as  they  come  along  (that 
has  been  the  past  policy  of  the  State),  to  see  what  the  pro 
posed  work  will  do  to  check  currents,  to  shoal  water,  to 
abridge  the  area  ;  and  then  say,  on  the  other  hand,  what  it 
may  do  to  compensate  by  the  blessings  which  it  brings  and 
by  the  burthens  which  it  removes.  We  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  trying  every  case  as  it  comes  along.  And  how 
fortunate  that  policy  has  been,  the  past  and  the  present  of 
our  Boston  sufficiently  exhibits. 

In  one  of  the  reports  of  the  Commissioners,  they  advert 
to  the  depth  of  water  at  certain  points  in  our  harbor  in  the 
year  1761,  and  go  to  compare  it  with  the  present  depth  of 
water.  Now  that  retrospect  is  not  important.  Sir,  there 
is  not  a  single  scrap  of  proof,  nor. the  least  reason  to  sup 
pose  that  the  whole  body  of  railroad  displacement  has  pro- 


428      REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

duced  one  single  particle  of  this  general  alleged  diminished 
depth  of  water.  In  the  second  place,  if  they  had  contrib 
uted  in  some  slight  degree,  it  don't  follow  that  our  policy 
lias  not  been  one  of  fortunate  wisdom  in  its  general  details. 
Sir,  what  was  the  harbor  of  Boston  of  1761  to  that  of  to 
day  ?  That  was  the  year  that  James  Otis  made  his  great 
speech.  What  were  the  navigation  and  commerce  of  that 
Boston  to  the  Boston  of  1850  ?  If  it  be  true  that  the 
railroads  have  contributed  to  shoal  the  water  and  abridge 
the  area,  yet  if  they  have  contributed  to  swell  the  popula 
tion  from  16,000  to  more  than  100,000,  its  area  from  1,000 
to  10,000  acres,  and  the  tonnage  of  the  vessels  from  I  know 
not  what  minimum  to  I  know  not  what  maximum  ;  if  the 
citizens  have  found  it  of  bricks,  as  the  Komans  did  an  an 
cient  city,  and  left  it  of  marble, — of  what  consequence  is  it  ? 
Though  the  water  be  a  little  shoaler,  yet  the  trade  is  ten 
thousand  to  one.  Instead  of  a  little  African  trade  (and  I 
wish  the  -whole  continent  ivas  sunk  in  the  sea  before  we 
had  ever  dipped  our  hands  in  that  trade),  we  have,  at  the 
present  time,  a  commerce  extending  throughout  two  hemi 
spheres. 

After  having  conducted  the  policy  of  improvements  in 
the  harbor  on  so  large  a  scale  and  with  such  happy  results, 
that  the  State  all  at  once  should  commence  a  refusal  of  this 
road,  attended  as  it  is  with  the  promise  of  so  much  good, 
brings  to  our  minds  the  old  nursery  story  of  the  giant  that 
swallowed  half  a  dozen  windmills,  and  then  was  choked  to 
death  with  a  pound  of  butter. 

But,  Gentlemen.  I  hasten  to  take  leave  of  you.  You  have 
heard  us  most  patiently,  and  I  trust  you  will  decide  wisely. 
It  is  somewhat  more  than  four  and  twenty  years  since  I  last 
sat  in  one  of  the  seats  you  now  occupy,  performing,  accord- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     KUFUS     CHOATE.          429 

ing  to  my  mediocrity,  my  share  also  of  the  service  of  the 
State  in  this  department.  Since  that,  occupations  and  the 
flight  of  time  have  impaired  whatever  little  ability  I  once 
had,  as  well  as  diminished  the  taste  I  once  felt  for  this  spe 
cies  of  public  exertion,  and  have  removed  any  inclination 
to  return  to  it  to-day.  Yet  I  can  scarcely  contemplate, 
without  something  like  envy,  without  at  least  a  conscious 
wish  that  I  could  share  in  it,  the  opportunity  you  have  to 
connect  your  names  here  and  thus  with  such  a  service  to 
the  State  as  this.  All  our  other  great  works  of  this  kind 
are  done.  The  East  is  ours  by  a  double  line  of  connection. 
All  that  was  to  be  accomplished  towards  attracting  to  our 
selves  the  Canadas  and  the  north  of  New  England,  has 
been  accomplished. 

One  splendid  effort  has  been  made  to  lay  hold  of  the 
West  and  North-west.  One  more  may  be  undertaken, 
and  there  is  no  more  afterwards  to  be  made.  Sir,  if  the 
East,  if  Maine,  if  that  large  but  desert  territory  away  up 
under  the  North  Star,  her  coast  iron  bound,  her  soil  sterile, 
her  winters  cold — if  Maine  needs  two  ocean  communications, 
do  you  think  that  the  Great  West  will  not  pay  for  two  only  ? 
Yet  two  are  all  that  can  be  considered  practicable.  And 
the  last  of  these  two  is  to  be  accomplished  by  you  or  not 
at  all.  These  are  the  opportunities  that  make  me  regret 
my  want  of  participation  in  public  life. 

"  Non  equidem  invideo,  miror  magis." 

You  remember  that  passage  in  which  a  great  English 
Statesman,  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  so  pertinently  ex 
pressed  himself,  that  he  "  would  not  give  a  peck  of  refuse 
wheat  for  all  that  there  is  of  fame  or  honor  in  this  world." 
That  sentiment  may  be  a  true  one.  But  to  connect  our 
selves  with  an  act  of  public  utility,  to  do  an  act  that  shall 


430   REMINISCENCES  OF  BUFUS  CHOATE. 

stand  out  clear  and  distinct  among  all  the  aggregate  of  acts 
that  have  made  Massachusetts  what  she  has  become,  to  rivet 
one  more  chain  that  shall  bind  the  East  to  the  free  North 
west  for  ever,  to  contribute  to  a  policy  that  shall  make  it 
quite  certain  that  if  the  great  Central  Constellation  is  to 
be  placed  over  the  sky,  New  England  shall  claim  its  share 
in  the  brightness — this  is  worth  far  more  than  all  for  which 
ambition  has  ever  sighed ;  and  this,  Mr.  Chairman  and 
Gentlemen,  is  permitted  to-day  to  you. 

THE   GILLESPIE   CASE. 
The  Commonwealth  vs.  Rev.  John  B.  Gillespie. 

This  was  an  indictment  for  an  assault  of  an  aggravated 
character.  The  defendant  being  a  Koman  Catholic  priest, 
and  tried  by  a  Protestant  jury,  the  difficulties  of  the  de 
fense  were  very  great ;  especially  as  the  jury  was  composed 
of  men  by  no  means  above  prejudices.  It  was  most  stren 
uously  contested,  and  resulted  in  a  sort  of  drawn  game. 

I  took  down  much  of  Mr.  Choate's  argument  for  the 
defendant ;  and  from  my  own  manuscript  and  the  report 
which  appeared  in  the  newspapers,  the  following  extracts 
are  collated. 

I  know  that  Mr.  Choate  felt  that  for  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest  very  little  justice  was  to  be  expected  then  and  th^re. 
But  he  was  never  more  eloquent,  persuasive,  and  pathetic 
than  I  then  saw  him  in  this — as  one  of  the  newspapers 
called  it — great  Appeal.  Mr.  Choate  rose  and  addressed 
the  jury  as  follows  : 

May  it  please  your  Honor  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury — 
Whatever  we  may  severally  think  upon  other  parts  of  this 
case,  we  shall  undoubtedly  agree  to  the  entire  truth  of  this 
observation,  at  least :  that  for  the  reverend  defendant  this 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.    431 

is  a  case  in  the  highest  degree  important  in  every  view 
which  can  be  taken  of  it.  He  is  a  clergyman,  not  of  your 
church,  nor  of  mine,  but  he  is  in  orders.  He  belongs  to  a 
denomination  of  Christians  who,  we  all  gratefully  and  cor 
dially  admit,  have  long  lived  among  us,  demeaning  them 
selves  peaceably  under  the  law.  It  is  his  duty  to  be  a 
teacher  of  purity,  benevolence,  and  peace,  to  be  a  light 
and  guide  to  those  around  him,  and  to  see  that  his  life  shall 
be  a  daily  and  beautiful  example  to  all  within  the  reach  of 
his  influence.  On  the  night  in  question,  he  had  just  left  a 
circle  of  clergymen,  quite  at  the  head  of  his  own  denomi 
nation  in  its  literary,  theological,  and  parochial  institu 
tions  ;  and  was  on  his  way  at  that  hour  to  administer  the 
last  rites  of  Christianity  at  the  bed  side  of  the  dangerously 
sick.  If  in  such  circumstances,  and  under  such  influences, 
clad  in  sacred  vestments,  bound  by  every  obligation  that 
could  press  on  a  man's  sense  of  duty,  or  awaken  him  to  his 
larger  interests,  and  almost  in  the  very  act  of  performing 
what  he  would  necessarily  deem  a  most  sacred  and  re 
sponsible  service ;  if  he  then,  possessed  at  the  instant  by 
some  demon  of  lust  and  wrath,  without  the  temptation, — if 
a  temptation  can  be  imagined, — of  the  thousandth  part  of 
a  second,  perpetrated  such  a  scandalous,  incomprehensible, 
incredible  and  ridiculous  assault  and  insult  upon  a  woman 
in  the  very  arms,  if  not  of  her  husband,  certainly  of  an 
affectionate  protector,  as  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  further 
to  describe — if  he  followed  this  up  by  a  series  of  acts  of 
brutality,  first  attacking  the  husband  and  next  the  guard 
ians  of  the  public  peace,  then  he  is,  and  of  right  ought  to 
be,  ruined,  and  that  for  ever — be  summarily  unfrocked  and 
unmasked.  This  community  will  no  longer  bear  his 
presence  as  a  teacher  among  them,  and  the  church  to 
which  he  belongs,  as  prudent  as  she  is  devout,  will  in- 


432  REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE. 

stantaneously  cast  him  in  disgrace  from  out  her  limits. 
How  much  do  you  hold  in  your  charge  ?  Not  his  life, 
but  every  thing  that  makes  the  value  of  his  life.  You  are 
called  upon  to  judge  him  soberly,  fairly,  candidly,  justly 
and  according  to  law. 

If  he  is  innocent — if  the  presumption  of  the  law  that 
he  is  so — and  which,  till  he  shall  be  proved  otherwise, 
should  be  as  irresistible  as  the  heavens — if  that  be  true  in 
this  case,  then  I  have  seen  no  client  and  no  man  in  my 
whole  professional  life — now  not  short— so  truly  deserving 
of  the  deepest  sympathy  and  the  most  heartfelt  compassion 
of  a  jury.  If  that  be  so,  then  he  has  been  the  greatest  suf 
ferer — sparing  his  life — I  have  yet  seen.  If  the  story  which 
he  tells  now,  and  has  always  told  from  the  beginning,  be 
true  ;  if  coming  from  the  agreeable  and  improving  society 
of  brothers  and  fathers  who  loved  him  and  who  love  him 
still,  going  to  make  a  sick  call  on  one  dangerously  ill ;  if 
perhaps  already  marked  as  the  victim  of  that  terrible  com 
plaint  of  the  lungs,  and  being  carefully  muffled,  he  is  seek 
ing  to  improve  his  spirits  and  his  health  by  the  enjoyment 
of  that  blessed  and  refining  autumnal  evening,  yet  kno wing- 
he  shall  be  in  season  for  the  performance  of  his  duty,  walk 
ing  rapidly,  his  mind  abstracted  and  engaged  in  such  con 
templations  as  would  be  expected  of  such  a  man  as  you 
are  told  he  is,  under  such  circumstances  ;  his  cap  drawn 
down  over  his  eyes,  so  that  Mrs.  Towle  could  not  see  his 
face  as  she  tells  you,  walking  on  a  narrow  sidewalk,  at  that 
spot  three  and  a  half  feet  wide,  making  a  deflection  to 
avoid  those  steps  which  his  eye  caught  as  he  reached  them ; 
if  he  then  accidentally  came  in  contact  with  the  wife  of 
Mr.  Towle  :  if  the  accident  was  misunderstood  ;  the  wife 
misconstrued  it ;  the  husband  did  not  see  it ;  if  the  hus- 


REMINISCENCES     OF      R  U  F  II  S     C  HO  ATE.  433 

band,  adopting  his  wife's  impressions,  reproached  and 
abused  him,  as  I  do  not  blame  Towle  if  he  did,  upon  this 
misconstruction  ;  if  he  promptly  denied  any  insult,  and 
assured  them  it  was  all  an  utter  mistake  ;  if  Towle  then 
rudely  pressed  upon  him  and  refused  to  receive  his  expla 
nation  ;  if  he  then  contracted  a  suspicion,  judging  from  the 
way  they  were  walking,  and  from  the  style  in  which  he, 
innocent  as  he  knew  himself,  was  addressed,  that  they  were 
no  better  than  they  should  be  ;  if  he  then  said  she  was  no 
lady,  or  no  wife  ;  thus  stung  by  abuse,  and  off  his  guard  at 
the  moment  of  so  unexpected  a  charge,  if  he  then  said 
that  only  word  which  I  regret  in  the  case ;  if  a  violent 
blow  immediately  followed  it,  and  perhaps  another  at  the 
same  instant ;  he  fell  from  the  sidewalk,  or  was  hurled 
across  the  street ;  if  Towle  called  out  "  stop  the  rascal,  he 
has  insulted  my  wife,"  and  he,  as  he  was  reaching  the  op 
posite  sidewalk,  was  met  by  those  three  young  men,  with 
feet  like  those  of  elephants,  and  fists  like  the  paws  of  lions, 
knocked  back  again  into  the  street,  prostrate,  and  was  then 
assailed  by  those  unmanly  kicks,  such  kicks  and  blows  with 
fists  or  feet  as  you,  Mr.  Foreman,  or  any  of  you  Gentlemen, 
would  not  undergo,  nor  have  any  friend  you  love  undergo 
for  moneys  numbered  ;  if  escaped  from  this  ordeal,  and 
running  for  his  life  almost,  bathed  in  his  own  blood,  con 
fused  and  excited,  he  is  collared  by  the  watchman,  carried 
to  the  watch-house  and  the  jail,  and  left  to  pass  the  night 
there  without  the  refreshment  of  the  cup  of  water  nevei 
denied  to  the  condemned  criminal ;  he  is  carried  the  next 
day  to  the  Police  Court,  and  there  the  ten  thousand  arrows 
of  ten  thousand  libels  are  instantly  launched  at  him  ;  libels 
agonizing  enough  to  any  man,  a  thousand  times  more  so  to 
a  clergyman,  and  he  comparatively  a  stranger  ;  if  with  all 

19 


434      REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

this  he  is  innocent,  I  have  known  no  case  demanding 
warmer  or  sadder  sympathies  than  this. 

One  fault  he  may  have  committed.,  as  I  judge  the  evi 
dence — not  from  himself — one  imprudence,  not  affecting 
his  character  for  modesty  certainly,  and  that  was,  that 
when  stung  by  the  harsh  treatment  he  had  received,  all 
undeservedly,  as  he  at  least  knew  well,  and  judging  by 
what  he  then  saw  of  the  parties  that  they  were  no  better 
than  they  were  bound  to  be,  he  may  have  expressed  a 
doubt  whether  Mrs.  Towle  was  a  lady  or  a  wife  ;  that  is 
the  only  thing  for  which  he,  at  the  close  of  this  trial,  as  a 
Christian  and  a  teacher  of  Christian  love,  will  have  to  take 
Mr.  Towle  by  the  hand  and  ask  his  forgiveness.  If  this  be 
so,  if  this  doubt  was  expressed,  how  ample  the  expiation  ! 

You  are  to  try  Mr.  Gillespie  like  Christian  men, — and 
the  first  principle  to  which  I  must  call  your  attention  is 
one  which  you  have  often  heard  much  better  stated  and 
more  ably  enforced  than  I  can  state  or  enforce  it — that  the 
law  presumes  every  man  to  be  innocent  of  every  charge  like 
this  till  the  contrary  is  clearly  and  beyond  a  reasonable  un 
certainty  proved. 

It  was  never  more  important  than  here  that  that  prin 
ciple  should  be  borne  in  mind,  first,  and  middle,  and  last. 
The  law  presumes  this  man  to  be  perfectly  innocent — it 
presumes  that  on  that  eventful  night,  to  him,  his  head 
was  clear  of  every  drop  of  intoxicating  drink,  that  good 
emotions — emotions  of  purity  and  benevolence,  and  not  of 
violence  and  lust,  were  in  his  heart — and  so  far  as  it  rea 
sonably  can  do  so,  that  the  witnesses  against  him  were 
mistaken. 

And  permit  me  to  say  this  presumption  of  the  law  is 
not  a  mere  phrase  without  meaning.  It  is  in  the  nature 
of  evidence  for  the  defendant,  and  therefore  the  government 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C  HO  ATE.          435 

are  bound  to  make  out  a  perfectly  clear  and  undoubted 
case  of  guilt.  And  unless  the  government  have  done  some 
thing  more  than  to  bring  witnesses  who  contradict  them 
selves  and  each  other,  you  are  not  at  liberty,  if  you  could, 
to  find  my  client  guilty  of  this  senseless,  nonsensical,  mo 
tiveless,  and  most  incomprehensible  folly  and  wickedness. 

I  do  not  fear  that  the  manliness  of  this  jury  will  think 
that  I  am  afraid  of  the  effect  of  the  testimony,  because  I 
insist  upon  this  principle,  which  may  yet  be  the  only  se 
curity  of  your  lives,  gentlemen,  or  of  mine. 

We  call  the  highest  ornaments  of  the  Catholic  church 
in  this  vicinity — some  Protestants  of  excellent  standing, — 
some  of  his  fellow  collegians — those  who  know  him  the 
most  intimately — physicians  who  have  attended  with  him, 
for  a  considerable  period,  the  bed  sides  of  the  sick  and  the 
dying.  If  you  are  to  try  the  case  by  proof,  we  give  you, 
as  to  the  point  of  character,  as  much  evidence  and  as  re 
liable  as  could  be  produced  by  the  beloved  and  revered 
pastor  on  whose  ministrations  any  of  you  attend — if  we 
are  not  the  victims  of  a  degree  of  perjury  of  which  I  have 
no  conception.  The  defendant  here  is  a  man  of  collegiate 
education,  refined  in  sentiment,  peaceable,  deferential,  and 
reserved  in  the  society  of  females,  and  in  all  respects  the 
very  opposite  of  the  licentious,  coarse,  and  rowdy  ish  loafer 
who  could  have  committed  this  act.  I  need  not  tell  you, 
that  in  a  case  of  this  kind,  the  character  of  the  accused  is 
entitled  to  very  great  consideration. 

This  man,  thus  pure  and  peaceable,  was  on  his  way  to 
perform  one  of  the  most  sacred,  one  of  the  most  refining 
and  improving  offices  of  his  religion.  He  was  going  to 
make  a  sick  call.  The  physician  has  told  you  that  the 
patient  had  a  very  formidable  haemorrhage,  was  very  weak, 
not  in  a  condition  immediately  dangerous,  but  still  it  was 


436  REMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS    CHOATE. 

not  clear  that  before  morning  she  would  not  first  have  re 
quired  and  then  have  passed  beyond  the  last  services  of  her 
church.  Mrs.  Reed  called  him ;  in  a  congregation  of  five 
or  six  thousand  persons,  his  duties  would  be  of  course  very 
numerous  ;  he  was  told  how  the  patient  was  ;  he  received 
it  as  a  call  to  be  made  during  the  night,  but  considered  it 
not  improper  that  before  making  it  he  should  take  that 
walk  to  Charlestown  with  Dr.  Early,  because,  as  he  said, 
he  thought  his  health  required  it,  nor  that,  with  the  same 
object,  he  should  extend  his  walk  out  of  the  immediate 
direction  towards  the  home  of  the  patient.  Then  it  ap 
pears  by  the  testimony  of  three  witnesses,  Mr.  Caverny, 
Mr.  Linden,  and  Dr.  Early,  he  arose  rather  hurriedly,  put 
on  his  muffler,  turned  up  the  collar  of  his  coat,  and  set 
out,  to  attend,  as  he  said,  that  sick  bed.  If  we  are  not 
going  to  believe  his  conduct  absurd,  that  was  his  object. 
The  learned  counsel  says  he  was  out  of  his  course.  He  can 
not  speak  for  himself.  The  law  speaks  for  him,  and  says 
his  being  out  of  his  course  is  consistent  with  innocence. 
We  have  strengthened  that  presumption  a  little. 

Perhaps  I  may  have  overstated  this  consideration.  But 
I  have  been  sick,  and  have  seen  those  sick  whom  I  loved, 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  a  clergyman  on  an  errand  of  mercy 
and  charity  to  the  sick,  is  privileged  above  the  common 
walk  ;  that  he  is  quite  in  the  gates  of  heaven.  They  may 
become  callous  ;  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  think  rather  that 
what  in  us  is  merely  instinctive  susceptibility  in  individual 
cases,  becomes  with  them  a  good  habit. 

I  shall  not  believe  that  a  man  on  such  an  errand,  pure 
and  modest  from  his  mother's  arms,  and  who  has  never 
been  heard  by  men  who  have  walked  the  streets  with  him, 
in  friendly  intimacy,  by  day  and  by  night,  to  breathe  an 
impure  word,  or  an  indelicate  allusion  even,  can  have 


REMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS    C  HO  ATE.  437 

lapsed  into  such  beastliness  all  at  once.  I  have  heard  my 
share  of  stories  about  clergymen  of  all  denominations. 
Take  this  human  creature — proved,  as  far  as  such  a  thing 
can  be  proved,  to  be  of  pure  and  blameless  life — and  what 
does  he  do  ?  My  brother  talks  of  temptation.  What 
temptation  ?  I  can  understand  the  influence  of  a  long- 
continued  course  of  severe  temptation.  The  brightest  and 
the  fairest  of  mortals  have  fallen  under  that.  I  can  under 
stand,  too,  that  a  soldier  at  the  storming  of  a  city — a  sailor 
fresh  from  a  long  voyage,  fiery  from  enforced  temperance, 
and  half  drunk,  may  be  suddenly  tempted  to  commit  seduc 
tion  or  a  rape.  But  in  the  name  of  decorum  and  propriety, 
what  is  charged  here  !  Was  any  thing  more  incompre 
hensible  ever  imputed  to  man  ?  What  temptation  could 
beset  my  client  in  these  circumstances  ?.  What  part  of  his 
nature  could  here  meet  its  accustomed  food  ?  Is  he  a  raw 
boy,  making  his  first  essay  in  rowdyism,  anxious  to  show 
the  world  that  he  does  not  care  whether  his  mother  knows 
he  is  out  or  not,  and  ready  to  commit  any  absurdity  for 
the  sake  of  what  he  terms  fun  ?  Pie  is  a  clergyman  in  the 
middle  age  of  life.  What  can  he  gain  by  such  a  foolish 
ness  ?  Was  not  a  fight  inevitable  ?  Was  he  not  peace 
ably  inclined  ?  Has  any  man  a  mark  of  a  thousandth  part, 
the  size  of  a  pin's  head  to  show  from  the  effects  of  his  vio 
lence  ?  And  would  this  be  so,  if  a  man  armed  with  such 
a  cane  had  been  then  and  there  in  a  fighting  frame  of 
mind?  Was  not  the  street  broad  and  light  with  the 
brightness  of  a  clear,  full  moon  ?  That  such  a  man  .should 
commit  such  an  indecency,  under  such  circumstances,  is 
without  precedent — is  not  to  be  believed  upon  any  evidence. 
Mr.  Choate  then  entered  into  a  very  critical  discussion 
of  all  the  details  of  the  evidence,  showing  the  contradic 
tions  of  the  witnesses,  etc. 


438          11EMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS      C  HO  ATE. 

Speaking  of  two  of  the  witnesses,  lie  said  : — 

But  these  witnesses  appear  upon  the  stand.  It  is  the 
privilege  of  the  accused  to  see  the  witnesses,  and  I  submit 
that  they  do  not  bear  that  peculiar,  indescribable,  but 
always  obvious  and  plain  appearance  of  respectability 
which  we  claim. 

From  their  own  evidence,  one  was  excited.  I  hope 
it's  the  first  glass  of  whisky  punch  she  ever  took.  If  so, 
it  would  have  excited  her  the  more.  If  not  so,  it  is  a 
Jiabit  with  her.  Either  way,  she  was  not  in  a  state  to  see 
clearly  or  report  clearly. 

And  they  have  contradicted  themselves  four  times — 
not  willfully,  I  hope. 

So  much  for  the  Government's  burthen  and  the  way 
they  sustain  it. 

Now  we  have  positive  testimony  inconsistent  with  this 
indecency. 

By  God's  Providence  we  produce  three  witnesses 
(naming  them)  who  saw  the  whole — whose  attention  was 
fixed,  and  whose  power  of  observation  and  opportunity 
were  perfect. 

It  was  in  this  case,  that  seeing  a  juror  look  stubbornly 
hostile,  Mr.  Choate  marched  up  to  him,  and  doubling  his 
fist,  thundered  out,  "  I  have  the  utmost  confidence  that  I 
can  satisfy  you  on  this,  as  well  as  on  every  other  point  of 
the  case  ;  lend  me  your  ear  !" 

Speaking  of  the  beginning  of  the  alleged  assault,  he 
said  : — "  It  was  a  mere  accidental  push  ;  such  a  mere  jos 
tle,  Mr.  Foreman,  as  you  might  give  another,  in  coming 
out  of  a  Union  Meeting  at  Fanueil  Hall"  (he  knew  the 
Foreman  was  a  Webster  Whig)  ;  "  or  a  Friday  evening 


REMINISCENCES     OF     HUFUS     CHOATE.  439 

Prayer  meeting"  (looking  at  another  and  very  religious 
juror)  ;  "or  a  Jenny  Lind  Concert ;"  (looking  now  at  still 
another  juror,  who  was  a  musical  man.) 

Speaking  of  the  watchman's  testimony.,  he  said  : — I 
always  fear  and  shudder  when  I  see  a  watchman  swearing 
to  a  conversation.  A  conversation  is  so  almost  incapable 
of  being  reported  accurately.  The  change  of  an  emphasis, 
a  word.,  or  even  a  letter,  may  so  mutilate  the  whole  intent. 
But  a  watchman's  business  brings  him  only  in  contact  with 
the  harsher  side  of  life,  and  his  judgment  must  be  severe. 

He  concluded  his  argument  thus  :— 

If  the  evidence  appears  to  you  unmanageably  contra 
dictory,  it  is  your  duty  to  lay  the  contradictory  evidence 
entirely  out  of  view,  and  to  form  your  judgment  upon  the 
grand  probabilities  afforded  by  the  nature  of  man,  the  pre 
vious  good  reputation  of  the  defendant,  the  utter  absence 
of  any  conceivable  motive  to  the  commission  of  the  acts 
alleged,  and  the  presence  of  the  most  controlling  induce 
ments  to  a  contrary  course.  I  ask  you  thus  to  desert  what 
is  not  evidence  because  it  is  not  certain,  and  turn  your 
attention  to  that  which  is  certain — the  known  nature  of 
man. 

Gentlemen,  the  defendant  worships  God  as  from  his 
infancy  he  has  been  taught  to  do,  according  to  the  dictates 
of  his  own  conscience,  and  not  to  those  of  yours  or  mine. 
I  have  not  adverted  to  this  subject,  because  it  would  have 
been  entirely  out  of  place  for  me  to  do  so.  This  is  a  court 
of  law.  You  are  here  to  judge  your  fellow-creature, — not 
of  meats  and  drinks,  of  ordinances,  of  new  moons  and  Sab 
baths, — you  are  to  judge  whether  he  has  violated  the  law. 
The  Constitution  says,  in  the  Bill  of  Eights,  that  "  all 
religious  sects  and  denominations,  demeaning  themselves 
peaceably  and  as  good  citizens  of  the  Commonwealth,  shall 


440         REMINISCENCES      OF      RUFUS      C  HO  ATE. 

be  equally  under  the  protection  of  law."  Gentlemen, 
before  you  can  find  a  verdict  for  the  government,  you 
must  ba  sure  that  this  defendant,  moved  by  some  inscruta 
ble  and  incredible  influence,  like  a  demoniac  possession, 
has  committed  this  infamy.  I  do  not  appeal  to  your  prej 
udices,  for  you  have  none, — sitting  where  you  sit,  you  are 
bound  to  have  none  ;  nor  to  your  sympathies,  for  this  is 
no  place  for  them, — but  I  appeal  to  your  reason  and  your 
oaths. 

WOODBURY      VS.      ALLEN. 

This  was  a  Patent  case,  in  which  Choate  was  for  plain 
tiff  patentee. 

I  made,  as  follows,  notes  upon  it,  as  I  heard  the  argu 
ment  :  He  opened  by  the  remark  : 

Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  never  in  the  whole  course 
of  my  life  have  I  risen  under  such  disadvantage  :  a  long, 
able  argument  preceding,  a  subject  originally  dry,  now 
threadbare  ;  and  I  must  pursue  the  old  treadmill  round 
with  you  once  more. 

As  the  opposite  counsel,  Mr.  Whiting,  had  cautioned 
the  jury  against  the  oration  which  he  predicted  Mr.  Choate 
would  make,  he  disclaimed  it  altogether  ;  but  in  the  very 
disclaimer  burst  out  into  a  climax  upon  the  obligation  and 
dependence  upon  inventors,  of  the  gigantic  resources  of 
America. 

Subsequently  he  appealed  to  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
jurymen  (having  shown  his  client  to  be  the  only  recog 
nized  patentee  under  the  broad  seal  of  the  United  States), 
by  describing  Whitney — the  man  who  gave  cotton  to  the 
South,  who  qualified  her  whole  history,  etc. — yet  dying 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.      441 

broken-hearted  !  and  Fulton,  who  gave  her  great  lakes  to 
America,  living  in  distress  ! 

He  said  of  a  witness,  whom  everybody  saw  to  be  weak, 
and  whom  he  was  expected  to  attack,  "  Well,  I'll  let  him 
pass,  he  is  not  necessary  to  be  demolished  for  our  case  •"  and 
then  talked  for  fifteen  minutes  about  it,  and  contrived,  be 
fore  he  dropped  him,  to  slide  in  every  thing  which  could  be 
said  against  him — riddling  him  fore  and  aft. 

I  was  struck,  in  this  argument,  by  noticing  how  con 
tinually  Mr.  Choate  applied  the  maxim  of  Demosthenes — 
to  interrupt  his  regular  and  prepared  flow,  by  exclamations, 
interrogations,  sneers,  etc. 

He  constantly,  absolutely  solicits  the  attention  and  in 
dulgence  of  the  jury  :  "As  you  have  permitted  me  to  read 
the  introduction,  suffer  me  to  analyze  the  close  of  this 
patent,  given  by  the  Government,  and  stamped  by  its 
broad  seal." 

All  local  prejudices,  and  sectionalisms,  and  peculiari 
ties,  and  traits,  he  catches  at.  He  paid,  in  his  argument 
on  the  cotton  gin,  a  beautiful  tribute  to  Whitney : 

The  man  who  for  a  long  time  was  hooted  round  the 
courts  of  his  country  ;  who  deserved  statues,  and  whose 
name  now  is  a  spell  in  the  patent  world,  startling  like  the 
title  of  the  Constitution  !  And  I  see  on  this  Patent, 
taking  up  the  ample  parchment  in  his  hand,  the  name 
and  style  of  John  0.  Calhoun,  whose  name  calls  up  all 
that  is  strong  and  sectional  in  the  spirit  of  the  South. 

Again  he  said :  He  is  a  Yankee  boy,  with  the  blood 
of  Carver  coursing  in  his  veins. 

In  this  argument  he  ventured  a  singular  gesture — 
doubling  his  fist,  and  shaking  his  arm  perpendicularly 

above  and  around  his  head  in  the  frenzy  of  his  passion,  he 

19* 


442  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

said,   "this  other  patent  here  is  of  no  more  value  than 
the  red  ribbons  that  bind  its  parchment." 

The  oppsite  counsel  earnestly  objected  to  his  reading 
from  a  law  book.  Well,  said  he,  I  aint  reading  it  yet. 
(Laugh.)  I  might  read  it — I  wont  read  it.  My  brother 
objects  to  law — he  don't  want  law.  (Laugh.)  Improper 
to  read  it !  Nonsense  ;  done  every  day.  However,  I  wont 
read  it,  but  I'll  state  the  whole  of  it  as  a  part  of  my  ar 
gument.  (Great  laughter.) 

"  They  come  here  to  show  their  inventions,  with  no  more 
inventive  brains,  as  my  Lord  Coke  says,  than  they  have 
souls/'  (Great  laugh,  in  which  the  judge  heartily  joins.) 

In  an  interlocutory  discussion  of  the  admission  of  a  de 
position,  he  said  :— 

Better  that  the  Court  House  be  passed  over  by  the 
plowshare  than  that  law  should  be  administered  on  such 
principles. 

Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away  before  this  grand 
rule  of  understanding  man  shall  vibrate. 

Such  are  the  canons  of  evidence  ;  that  the  party  shall 
look  upon  the  witness,  to  see  his  manner  ;  whether  our 
law  be  administered  by  Priest  or  Chancellor,  in  a  Court 
House  or  beneath  an  old  English  oak. 

Again,  in  the  argument,  he  said  : — 

Try  this  with  fairness.  Try  it  with  the  bandage  over 
the  eyes.  Bury  the  hatchet ;  honor  bright  ! 

His  favorite  device  of  conceding  the  point,  and  then  in 
some  other  way,  or  subsequent  connection,  bringing  it  in 
again,  was  adroitly  displayed  in  two  things.  The  Court 
stopped  him  in  presenting  a  specification  of  claim  of  the 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE.          443 

other  party,  as  a  confession.  After  a  severe,  but  courteous 
argument  with  the  Judge,  he  said,  "Well,  I  wont  press  it, 
if  your  Honor  don't  approve  ;"  but  subsequently  he  con 
trived  to  bring  it  all  arguendo  before  the  jury,  without 
formally  taking  up  the  specification,  in  hand. 

Again — as  Mr.  Whiting  had  in  the  outset  cautioned  the 
jury  against  an  appeal  for  inventors,  he  disclaimed  it  al 
together  in  the  exordium  ;  but  in  the  peroration  it  all  ap 
peared. 


SPEECH   OF    MR.    CHOATE   BEFORE  LEGISLATIVE   COMMITTEE. 

[Petition  to  set  off  three  wards  from  the  City  of  Eoxbury,  as  a  separate  Agricultural 

Town.l 

I  think,  gentlemen,  that  it  must  be  admitted  by  all  of 
you,  at  least,  by  all  the  members  of  the  Legislature, 
although  my  learned  brother  has  been  pleased  to  take 
a  somewhat  different  view  of  the  case,  that  the  gen 
eral  character  of  the  petition  which  is  presented  to  you, 
the  grounds  on  which  it  proceeds,  the  objects  it  aims 
at,  and  the  source  it  comes  from,  are  such  as  entitle  it,  at 
least,  to  the  kindest  and  most  parental  consideration  of  the 
Legislature. 


&•• 


The  petitioners  are  here,  Gentlemen,  if  you  will  give  me 
leave  to  remind  you,  not  seeking  for  railroad  charters,  or 
mutual  insurance  charters,  or  for  the  loan  of  money  or  of 
credit  from  the  State  ;  but  I  hope  I  shall  provoke  no  man's 
smile  when  I  say,  seeking  for  a  better  liberty  under  1  he  law. 
They  are  here  with  no  revolutionary  purpose,  to  throw  off 
all  social  ties  ;  but  asking  only  the  inestimable  privilege  of 
being  allowed  to  form  with  one  another  sweeter  civil  and 
Focial  ties,  to  the  end  that  they  may  the  better  perform  all 


444   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

social  and  all  civil  duties.  They  are  not  here  seeking  the 
lion's  share,  or  any  share  of  the  pauper  tax,  or  of  any  of 
the  cemeteries  to  disturb  the  repose  of  the  dead  ;  but  are 
seeking  only  a  better  and  a  completer  government  of  them 
selves. 

They  are  here,  not  from  any  fear  of  any  future  tax 
from  any  foreign  or  a  native  pauper  population,  not  from 
any  fear  of  any  thing  •  but  they  are  here  under  a  present 
and  practical  feeling,  gentlemen,  that  a  community  in 
lower  Koxbury,  of  native  citizens,  undoubtedly  respecta 
ble  in  its  general  constitution,  of  very  great  worth  in  its 
general  character,  but  a  community  distinct  from  them 
selves,  distinct  by  local  position,  distinct  by  industrial 
pursuits,  distinct  by  modes  of  municipal  life,  distinct  some 
what  by  sympathies  alienated,  I  will  not  say  soured — a 
strong  feeling  that  such  a  community  should  have  a  dis 
tinct  government  from  their  own.  I  say  that  this  com 
munity  is  this  day  their  master.  Glood  government,  or 
bad  government,  as  my  learned  brother  chooses  to  repre 
sent  it,  it  is  the  government  of  another  ;  and  my  clients 
seek  to  escape  from  it,  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen,  not 
by  rushing  into  any  revolutionary  form  of  policy,  but  by 
setting  up  that  old  and  endeared  form  which,  beginning  at 
the  Kock,  beginning  on  the  Cape,  transplanted  from  the 
cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  a  New  England  man  takes  with 
him  as  he  takes  his  Bible  or  his  Constitution,  whether  he 
ascends  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  or  of  the  Columbia — 
that  ancient  form  beneath  which  alone  the  agricultural 
mind  breathes  freely  and  trains  itself  perfectly  to  the 
duties  of  citizenship  ;  I  mean  the  old-fashioned  form  of 
town  government  in  town  meeting.  These  are  the  general 
features  of  the  causes  which  bring  the  town  of  Koxbury 
here  to-day.  T  am  quite  sure,  in  advance,  that  such  a  case 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  445 

from  such  a  source,  proceeding  on  such  grounds,  and  reach 
ing  to  such  results,  will  be  treated  as  all  are  treated  who 
come  to  you,  parentally,  considerately  and  kindly. 

It  has  seemed  to  me,  give  me  leave  to  say,  and  I  have 
felt  it  with  great  force  during  my  learned  brother's  argu 
ment,  that  it  is  all  but  indispensable,  before  we  take  one 
single  step  towards  an  attempt  to  determine  this  case,  that 
we  should  begin,  if  we  can,  by  doing  what  my  learned 
friends  on  the  other  side  have  not  lifted  a  finger  to  try  to 
do  ;  and  that  is,  if  possible,  to  settle  some  standard,  some 
rule,  some  formula,  some  criterion,  if  language  is  equal  to 
it,  to  determine  whether  a  petitioning  population,  seeking 
to  be  a  town  by  themselves,  have  made  out  a  right  to  be  a 
town.  What  shall  be  the  standard  of  determination,  Mr. 
Chairman  ?  I  submit  to  you  and  to  your  associates  that 
your  minds  struggle  for  a  rule.  What  shall  it  be  ? 

Now,  it  is  very  easy  indeed — examples  enough  have 
been  given  this  afternoon — for  us  to  fill  our  mouths  with 
phrases  which  seem  to  mean  something,  and  which  do  mean 
something,  but  which  do  not  throw  a  ray  of  light  upon 
this  question  which  is  so  important. 

I  have  the  honor,  with  a  good  deal  of  diffidence,  but 
after  a  good  deal  of  reflection,  and  at  last  with  a  good  deal 
of  reasonable  reliance  that  it  will  not  be  unsatisfactory  in 
the  judgment  of  the  Committee,  to  state  that  the  formula 
for  such  a  standard,  or  the  criterion  under  the  policy  of 
Massachusetts,  is  substantially  this  :  When  the  area  and 
its  inhabitants  seeking  separation  from  another  town  or 
city,  and  an  incorporation  as  a  new  one,  are  sufficiently 
large  and  numerous  to  constitute  of  themselves  a  new  town 
of  respectable  dimensions,  and  population  and  ability, 
a,bove  the  average  of  the  towns  of  the  conimonwealth — 


446          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    C II  GATE. 

above  the  class  of  what  would  be  called  inconsiderable  and 
unimportant,  or  small  towns,  and  yet  leave  the  parent  town 
not  absorbed  by  annexation,  with  which  these  petitioners 
have  nothing  to  do;  but  will  leave  it  in  a  municipal  life  of 
average  dimensions,  populousness  and  ability  ;  then  if  the 
public  policy  shall  in  this  behalf  be  satisfactory,  I  mean  to 
say,  not  the  making  of  two  inconsiderable  towns,  but  of 
two  large  ones,  which,  shall  be  above  the  average  ;  then, 
sir,  if  the  welfare  of  petitioners  who  apply  for  the  incorpo 
ration  will  be  promoted  in  a  considerable  and  apprecia 
ble  degree  by  a  separation — so  much  promoted  that  this 
will  exceed  the  inconvenience  and  evil,  if  any,  occasioned 
to  the  residue,  so  that  upon  the  whole  there  will  be  an  in 
crease  of  the  accommodations  and  convenience  and  proba 
ble  prosperity  of  the  original  whole  as  a  mass,  the  separa 
tion  is  proper  to  be  made.  I  pray  you  to  allow  me  by  this 
fading  twilight  to  pause  for  a  moment  upon  this  criterion. 

My  learned  brother  having  discussed  no  standard  of  his 
own,  I  can  of  course  have  no  reply  to  it.  Some  allusion 
was  made — not  very  satisfactory — to  the  report  of  the  city 
of  Koxbury.  But  as  far  as  I  understand  it,  it  may  be  con 
sidered  as  substantially  conforming  to  my  own  view,  and 
with  an  earnest  petition  to  be  forgiven  for  repeating  the 
criterion,  I  shall  have  argued  this  case  when  I  submit  to 
you  that  we  bring  it  up  to  every  element  which  enters  into 
that  criterion. 

To  say  that  we  cleave  down  an  ancient  and  a  noble 
whole  into  insignificance,  is  to  say  what  is  not  true.  To 
say  that  we  unnecessarily  multiply  corporations,  is  to  say 
what  is  not  true.  A  town  is  presented  with  a  corporate 
existence  ;  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where  one  grew  be- 


REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.      417 

fore  ;  and  I  call  that  pretty  good  forming,  gentlemen,  mor 
ally,  politically,  rurally.  I  trust  that  the  political  condi 
tions  of  my  standard  are  entirely  satisfied. 

I  now  have  the  honor  to  submit  that  we  bring  ourselves 
altogether  within  the  other  branch  of  my  conditions,  hav 
ing  satisfied  you  that  we  do  not  destroy  a  great  corpora 
tion  to  make  two  insignificant  corporations.  I  now  am  ready 
to  advance  to  the  question  of  the  convenience  and  incon 
venience — the  good  and  the  evil  of  the  change  itself,  to  the 
mass  now  of  Roxbury.  There  is  no  public  policy  against 
us.  If  I  can  show  you,  looking  now  on  this  picture  and 
then  on  that,  that  this  proposed  change  is  beneficial,  you 
will  commend  yourselves  by  giving  us  a  favorable  Report. 
I  do  not  say  to  our  hearts  or  to  our  gratitude,  or  that  we 
shall  reward  you  with  our  votes,  (for,  alas,  we  are  no  con 
stituents  of  yours,  save  in  that  enlarged  sense  in  which  we 
are  constituents  of  all  the  representatives  of  Massachu 
setts,)  but  to  your  own  sense  of  justice,  for  conferring  a 
lasting  public  benefit  upon  the  community.  Passing  from 
strong  feeling,  strong  desire,  cherished  expectation,  and 
fixed  purpose,  to  the  field  of  calm  reason,  we  shall  endeavor 
to  satisfy  you  that  good  can  be  done.  If  I  can  not  show 
you,  not  that  some  evil  will  not  be  done,  but  that  the  good 
will  outweigh,  appreciably  and  certainly,  all  the  evil  that 
there  is  or  can  be,  then  dismiss  us  from  your  presence. 
But  if  I  shall  show  you  a  reasonable  case,  remember  that 
you  do  not  hold  us  to  a  mathematical  demonstration,  and 
that  you  will  not  turn  away  from  us  because  we  can  not 
offer  you  certainty  ;  but  if  we  show  you  that  a  great  op 
portunity  is  afforded,  according  to  a  moral  probability,  to 
do  a  real  good,  if  you  do  it  I  apprehend  you  do  your  duty. 

But,  sir,  they  say  Old  Eoxbury  opposes  us,  and  objects 
to  our  setting  up  for  ourselves.  She  loves  us  so  tenderly 


448         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     C II  GATE. 

and  so  dearly  that  she  wishes  still  to  embrace  us  in  her 
arms.  Some  of  her  citizens  love  us  for  the  honors  we  aid 
in  bestowing  upon  them  and  some  of  her  officials  for  the 
contributions  we  make  to  her  public  treasury. 

Gentlemen.,  I  might  turn  to  the  witnesses  who  have 
testified,  and  to  their  salaries  ;  while  running  them  over  it 
would  be  easy  to  make  a  merriment  of  what  is,  in  reality, 
a  grave  matter.  It  would  seem,  to  be  sure,  as  if  they  had 
testified  "  all  for  love,  and  a  very  little  for  the  bottle." 
Methinks  I  hear  the  shout,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephe- 
sians  ;"  and  then,  in  an  undertone,  "for  by  this  craft  ive 
live." 

Mr.  Dudley  loves  us  at  the  rate  of  eleven  hundred  a 
year,  and  Mr.  Howe  a  hundred  and  seventy-five.  [Immense 
sensation.]  Such  love  as  this,  Mr.  Chairman,  will  never 
grow  cold. 

I  submit  to  you  that,  upon  the  question  of  the  annexa 
tion  of  Canada  to  the  United  States,  it  would  be  just  as 
proper  to  call  the  Governor  General  of  that  Province,  as 
he  leaves  the  Queen,  with  his  salary  of  £10,000  sterling 
annually,  to  give  testimony  upon  the  sentiments  of  the  in 
habitants,  concerning  the  project,  as  it  is  to  call  these  sal 
aried  gentlemen  here  to  testify  concerning  the  sentiments  of 
the  people  of  Koxbury  on  this  question.  No  !  There  is 
no  real  feeling  there  against  our  petition,  trust  me  upon  it. 
There  are  individuals  who  feel  strongly,  there  is  an  organ 
ization  which  can  create  and  diffuse  a  pretty  powerful  sen 
timent  within  a  limited  circle.  Yet  there  are,  even  with 
the  aid  of  that  influence,  but  486  out  of  2000  voters  who 
can  be  galvanized  into  the  slightest  degree  of  activity 
against  such  an  application  as  this. 

But  let  us  go  to  the  evils.     I  have  found  it  infinitely 


REMINISCENCES     OF      R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  B  .         449 

difficult,  and  think  that  you  have  yourselves,  to  lay  fingers, 
out  of  all  the  heads  my  learned  brother  has  been  able  to 
afford  us,  upon  any  thing  like  a  clear  and  precise  list  of 
the  evils  which  old  Roxbury  may  suffer.  Be  they  what 
they  will,  and  come  they  in  what  shape  they  may — what 
are  the  evils  which  old  Eoxbury  may  receive  ?  One  of 
them  touches  us  in  our  most  sacred  sensibilities.  Of  that 
I  will  speak  before  I  am  done.  But  I  am  speaking  now  of 
corporate  interests.  Of  what  are  they  afraid  ?  There  is 
an  apprehension  that  the  burden  of  lower  Roxbury  will  be 
somewhat  increased  by  the  separation  of  the  upper  regions. 
That,  I  understand,  is  the  general  difficulty.  It  is  put  in 
various  ways.  They  talk  of  the  Irish  population.  But  as 
I  understand  it,  at  last,  there  is  some  fear  that  the  burdens 
of  lower  Roxbury  will  be  enhanced  by  the  separation.  If 
they  should  be,  I  shall  have  the  honor,  not  to  pile  up,  but 
to  hold  up  the  mountain  preponderance  of  benefit,  on  the 
other  side,  to  counterbalance  it. 

But  I  intend  to  submit  to  you  that  it  is  mere  cant  and 
declamation,  not  in  the  hands  of  my  learned  brother,  but 
in  the  hands  of  those  whom  he  represents,  and  that  there 
is  not  a  particle  of  solid  and  intelligent  reason  to  believe 
that  the  burdens  of  that  Corporation  will  be  enhanced,  in 
proportion  to  their  numbers,  one  seven  thousandth  part  of 
a  farthing,  by  the  separation  we  so  much  desire. 

But  there  is  another  class  of  burdens,  and  I  meet  them 
upon  that  class,  for  I  saw  that,  by  the  way  in  which  the 
subject  was  presented,  they  were  making  an  unjust  im 
pression  upon  their  hearers.  I  refer  to  the  class  from  which 
the  town  derives  no  benefit,  but  which  are  only  unmitigated 
burdens,  and  that  is  the  foreign  pauper  population.  They 
are  afraid  that  they  will  have  more  Irish  paupers  to  pay 
for  if  they  are  separated  than  if  we  remain  together. 


450      REMINISCENCES     OF     II  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E  . 

Now  I  say  that  there  is  no  reasonable  ground  of  belief 
that  the  burden  will  be  increased  on  this  part  of  Roxbury 
one  particle  more  than  it  will  on  us.  To  say  that,  taking 
the  entire  mass  which  is  now  in  both  Roxburys,  the  chances 
are  that  more  will  live  to  be  paupers  there  than  among  us 
is  to  assert  what  can  not  be  proved.  Who  knows  any  thing 
about  it  ?  Who  can  say  on  the  other  hand  that  of  that 
great  tide  of  emigration  with  which  the  Old  World  is  pour 
ing  itself  upon  us,  that  in  the  five  and  twenty  years  to 
come  more  of  them  will  stop  and  remain  in  lower  Roxbury 
than  in  upper  ?  Who  does  not  say  that  the  person  who 
makes  such  a  statement  has  deserted  the  halls  of  legislation, 
and  turned  into  a  fortune  teller  and  a  gambler  ?  He  specu 
lates  on  that  of  which  all  must  be  ignorant.  Here  is  the 
honest  Englishman,  the  pious  Scotchman,  the  worthy  Ger 
man,  the  hardy  Irishman,  the  gay  Frenchman  the  happiest 
of  them  all,  who  are  coming  to  this  country  by  thousands  ; 
and  this  Legislature  is  to  refuse  us  a  corporation  upon  the 
learned  ground  that  my  learned  friends  are  all  but  certain, 
that  is  all  who  have  salaries,  and  offices,  and  fees,  that 
more  will  light  in  their  city  than  in  our  town  Their  poor- 
house,  they  say,  is  better  than  ours  ;  as  if  the  lightning  of 
God  might  not  destroy  it,  or  the  accident  of  fire  might  not 
burn  it  down  ;  as  if  ours  might  not  be  built  better  than 
theirs  ;  as  if  foreigners  were  coming  to  this  country  to 
enter  a  good  poor-house. 

Who  will  tell  me,  when  you  look  upon  the  two  terri 
tories,  when  you  consider  that  our  gardens  are  to  be  laid 
out  and  our  houses  to  be  constructed,  when  these  beauties 
here  are  to  be  made  to  present  themselves  all  marriageable 
to  the  sun,  they  will  not  attract  and  pay  the  foreigner  a 
thousand  to  one,  nay  even  over  and  above  a  thousand  to 
one,  more  than  any  attractions  this  overgrown  and  noisome 


REMINISCENCES     OF      R  U  F  U  S     C  H  O  A  T  E .        451 

city  of  lower  Roxbury  will  present.  I  would  not  abuse 
my  clients,  as  my  friend  has  done  his,  by  implication.  I 
intreat  you  to  bear  with  me  in  considering  whether  or  not 
it  be  a  sheer  conjecture,  and  whether  there  was  any  thing 
ever  presented  in  the  womb  of  the  future  to  the  mind  of 
man,  which  is  more  of  a  fancy  than  that.  There  is  not 
time  and  there  is  no  need  to  break  this  butterfly  upon  a 
wheel.  I  find  this  business  done  very  much  to  my  hands 
in  a  very  able  document  put  forth  by  the  city  of  Roxbury, 
before  my  friends  had  got  excited  in  the  progress  of  this 
very  able  investigation. 

I  know  no  other  evil.  But  one  has  been  adverted  to 
in  such  strong  terms  to  me  as  to  excite  our  own  sympa 
thies,  and  so  strong  that  I  can  not  doubt  that  in  every 
thing  he  said  my  brother  was  sincere.  But  in  taking  my 
leave  of  them,  permit  me  to  submit  that  the  whole  of  this 
objection  is  altogether  unfounded,  exaggerated,  and  over 
strained  in  its  application  to  this  deliberation  to-night. 
My  learned  brother  alludes  to  the  cemetery.  His  allusion 
to  that  shows  that  he  either  imperfectly  comprehends  or 
he  unsatisfactorily  and  incompletely  reciprocates  what  I 
thought  was  the  admirable  manner  in  which  my  learned 
friend  discussed  that  part  of  the  case.  It  is  not  a  matter 
which  we  can  discuss.  It  should  be  transferred  to  the  re 
gion  of  feeling.  I  would  commit  it  to  the  inatronage  of 
Roxbury.  I  would  commit  it  to  the  bereaved  of  lower 
Roxbury  ;  to  the  mourner,  who  is  the  only  inhabitant  of 
the  cemetery  at  last.  And  I  say  that  no  affection  of  the 
heart,  no  prejudice,  no  feeling,  nothing  so  holy  as  that 
cemetery,  or  the  sentiments  connected  with  it,  shall  be  ne 
glected  in  order  to  accomplish  the  object  of  our  petition. 
Tin's  cemetery  shall  be  yielded  to  them,  if  you  will  permit 


452         REMINISCENCES     OF     II  U  F  U  S     C  II  O  A  T  E  . 

me  to  say  so,  free  of  burdens.  We  shall  only  be  too  glad 
to  keep  the  thronged  passage  ways  to  it  accessible.  That 
place  of  the  dead,  that  resting  place  of  quiet,  shall  be 
guarded  for  them.  The  bones  of  both  the  Koxburys  shall 
repose  there  till  the  sea  gives  up  its  dead.  To  whom  of 
the  dead  or  the  living  does  it  signify  within  what  line  of 
corporate  territory  it  remains  ?  The  name  shall  be  of  Rox- 
bury  ;  the  jurisdiction  shall  be  in  Roxbury  ;  the  property 
shall  be  in  Roxbury  ;  the  grounds  shall  be  hallowed  and 
appropriated  to  Roxbury,  if  they  please  to  have  it  so,  alone. 
And  to  the  mourner  how  little  it  imports,  since  he  can  not 
hold  the  dear  departed  object  any  longer  in  his  arms,  or 
bury  him  in  his  church,  or  in  his  garden,  but  must  send 
him  to  that  old  home — how  little  he  regards  the  corporate 
name.  Consecration,  and  purity,  and  peace,  he  desires  ; 
and  he  shall  have  them,  in  the  bosom  of  a  kindred,  a  Chris 
tian  and  a  civilized  community.  If  there  were  not  senti 
ments  in  my  own  bosom  which  made  me  feel  that  my 
brother  could  not  have  said  any  thing  on  this  subject  without 
feeling,  I  should  have  believed  that  he  could  not  consider  that 
any  objection  to  the  grant  of  our  petition.  Do  not  let  any 
thing  connected  with  this  sacred  subject  interrupt  our  pro 
ceedings.  We  do  Roxbury,  therefore,  no  harm  in  her  pulse 
or  in  her  heart.  No  harm  !  On  the  contrary,  as  I  am 
about  to  take  my  leave  of  that  subject,  I  will  submit  to 
you  that,  unless  experience  is  a  liar,  separate  us,  and  she 
shall  grow  by  our  growth,  and  strengthen  with  our  strength. 
In  this  great  growth  both  parties  shall  gain  by  the  separa 
tion. 

Will  my  brother  allow  me  to  remind  you  that  if  the 
prayer  of  this  petition  should  be  granted,  and  that  if  we 
enter  into  any  thing  like  a  ten  thousandth  part  of  her  pros- 


REMINISCENCES     OF      BUFUS     CHOATE.      453 

perity  that  we  hope  for,  that  if  we  shall  behold  on  this  or 
that  beautiful  spot  a  house  or  a  cluster  of  houses,  does  not 
lower  Koxbury  know  that  every  cask  of  lime  and  every  foot 
of  timber  comes  to  her  wharves,  and  we  take  it  from  her 
hands  ?  I  present  it  to  you,  that  the  benefit  is  as  obviously 
hers,  in  the  employment  of  her  own  wharves  to  bring  the 
necessary  articles  for  the  improvement  of  our  land,  as  it  was 
for  England  a  benefit  if  she  had  originally  known  that  it 
was  her  true  policy  to  give  the  colonies  their  freedom,  and 
make  them  a  market. 

I  have  done  with  the  evils,  and  I  say  that  I  find  no  evil. 
Public  policy  we  satisfy,  because  we  simply  give  to  the 
State  two  daughters  for  one,  and  "  each  fairer  than  the 
other  ;"  the  daughter  fairer  than  the  fair  mother  herself— 
two  for  one : 

"Matre  pulchra,  filia  pulchrior." 

Not  either  unable  to  go  along,  but  each  of  them  up  to  the 
standard,  and  beyond  the  average  standard,  of  municipal 
respectability  and  municipal  duty.  Then  we  do  no  evil. 

I  am  sure  you  will  hardly  suspect  mo  at  this  time  of 
night  of  a  desire  to  declaim  ;  but  it  is  hardly  extravagant 
to  say  that  this  bill  which  you  are  asked  to  pass  will  be 
received  like  another  Declaration  of  Independence.  The 
ringing  of  bells  and  the  firing  of  bonfires  will  exhibit  the 
feeling  that  exists.  This  strength  and  unanimity  of  feeling 
I  regard  as  very  high  evidence  that  the  interests  of  these 
persons  will  be  promoted  by  this  act ;  it  is  evidence  that 
there  are  evils  which  they  feel,  and  that  the  separation  will 
be  the  remedy. 

Boston  is  connected  by  ties  to  all  parts  of  the  State  ; 
but  would  you  allow  Bostqn  to  govern  Norfolk,  or  Salem 


454      REMINISCENCES     OF     BUFUS     C  II  GATE. 

to  govern  Essex,  or  New  Bedford  to  govern  Bristol  ?  Cer 
tainly  not  !  So  here  exactly  is  an  illustration  of  what  ex 
ists  between  us  and  our  very  good  friends.  This,  gentlemen, 
is  an  agricultural  district.  It  has  agriculture  for  its  general 
employment.  Its  market  is  Boston.  Here  and  there  is  a 
beautiful  clump  of  trees,  as  there  will  often  be,  and  they 
grow  a  little  on  the  side  of  that  beautiful  pond  embosomed 
in  Jamaica  Plains.  Here  and  there  are  the  mechanic,  the 
artisan,  the  blacksmith,  the  carpenter,  just  as  there  are  in 
every  farming  town  in  Massachusetts.  But  its  general 
character  is  agricultural,  dotted  here  and  there  with  a  beau 
tiful  locality,  standing  out  at  last  upon  a  plain  farming 
land.  This  upper  Koxbury,  there  it  is  !  And  it  is  quite 
true  that,  in  point  of  fact,  the  inhabitants  of  wards  six, 
seven  and  eight  are  thrown  together  bv  a  general  inilu- 

O  o  \j  o 

ence  of  locality,  in  addition  to  which  some  of  them  meet  in 
the  cars  every  day,  going  to  and  coming  from  Boston  ;  but 
they  never  meet  a  Koxbury  man  once  in  a  twelvemonth. 

What  is  the  character  of  the  lower  town  ?  It  is  a  trad 
ing  and  commercial  town.  There  are  the  artificial  side 
walks,  the  gas-lighted  stores,  the  artificial  supply  of  water, 
the  crowded  and  noisome  population,  the  indestructible 
character  of  the  town.  And  there  it  will  be  for  ever. 

Strengthen  the  ties  by  which  they  may  be  bound  to 
gether,  in  a  freer  and  easier  manner.  But  I  do  submit, 
that  to  tell  the  Committee  that  these  two  are  one,  is  to 
disturb  the  political  and  social  relations  of  civil  life.  An 
old  poet  has  said,  "  Grod  made  the  country  and  man  made 
the  town."  A  still  older  poet  has  said, 

"  God  the  first  garden  made, 
And  the  first  city  Cain." 

The  city  is,  in  the  nature  of  ^things,  very  different  from 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CIIOATE.         455 

the  country.  My  brother  may  come  with  his  honeyed  words, 
and  tell  how  much  he  loves  us.  But  I  ask  for  this  separa 
tion  on  the  ground  of  incompatibility  of  interest,  and  de 
mand  it,  also,  on  the  ground  of  incompatibility  of  temper. 
I  remember  to  have  passed  a  portion  of  my  life  in  New 
Ipswich.  There  was  Old  Ipswich.  There  was  the  town 
and  there  the  numbers.  I  will  tell  you  an  instance  of  their 
government  of  us.  Among  the  objects  of  expenditure  were 
fire  engines,  hose,  hooks  and  ladders.  I  remember  that  the 
people  of  Old  Ipswich  kept  all  the  engines  in  Chebacco, 
which  was  the  old  Indian  name  of  the  town,  and  sent  down 
very  religiously  the  hooks  to  New  Ipswich,  in  order  to  pull 
down  the  buildings,  to  prevent  any  further  spread  of  fire, 
every  one  of  the  houses  being  at  least  half  a  mile  from  each 
other.  (Laughter.) 

Not  only  do  the  petitioners  seek  a  separation,  but  they 
seek  a  kind  of  government  in  which  the  whole  people  will 
have  a  freer  action  on  the  administration  of  affairs.  They 
want  a  town  government. 

To  determine,  in  town  meeting,  what  shall  be  done  by 
the  people  is  one  of  the  most  inestimable  of  privileges.  I 
have  not  lived  long  enough  in  cities  to  believe  that  that 
privilege  is  not  still  held  inestimable  by  the  people.  The 
towns  "are  enabled  to  judge  practically  of  the  economical 
expenditure  of  their  money.  If  they  determine  on  an  expen 
diture,  and  determine  it  in  advance,  I  think  that  the  chances 
are  ten  thousand  to  one  that  their  expenditures  will  be 
wiser  made  than  if  they  entrusted  the  decision  of  them  to 
boards  sitting  in  the  dark,  or,  at  least,  in  the  night-time. 
And  when  the  objects  of  the  expenditure  are  explained,  I 
maintain  that  the  power  to  judge  in  advance,  to  judge  in 
the  day-time,  is  better  than  to  act  upon  a  report  without 


456   REMINISCENCES  OF  HUFUS  CHOATE. 

knowing  any  thing  about  the  subject.  It  is  all  the  differ 
ence  between  possessing  substantial  influence,  and  being 
mocked  by  the  semblance  of  power  without  its  reality. 

There  are  higher  reasons,  which  I  should  present  if  I 
did  not  fear  to  trespass  on  your  time,  why  I  maintain  that 
the  mode  of  government  by  town  meeting  should  be  re 
ligiously  observed  with  every  community  in  which  it  is  prac 
ticable.  These  town  meetings  are  the  free  schools  of  free 
men  ;  they  are  the  schools  where  the  people  learn  to  think 
upon  public  affairs ;  where  they  learn  the  first  lessons  of 
self-government ;  where  they  learn  for  the  first  time  to  ex 
amine  public  subjects,  to  debate  in  the  presence  of  one 
another,  and  to  exchange  opinions  on  public  questions  of 
importance.  They  carry,  therefore,  gentlemen,  public  life 
down  to  the  minutest  member  of  society ;  and  they  connect 
the  minutest  inhabitant  of  the  smallest  and  remotest  town 
directly  at  last  with  the  State. 

.  I  regard  the  town  governments  as  great  educational 
agencies,  therefore,  for  the  present  and  for  the  future;  I  regard 
them  as  great  agencies  for  the  retaining  of  liberty  alive,  for 
teaching  its  spirit,  and  furnishing  an  ability  to  maintain  it. 
I  honor  them  for  what  they  have  done.  I  am  reminded,  in 
this  connection — as  one  who  lias  preceded  me  was  reminded 
of,  and  alluded  to  Mr.  Jefferson — I  am  reminded  of  a  man, 
one  of  ourselves,  better  than  Jefferson.  I  refer  to  the  sen 
timents  of  John  Adams.  No  one  understood  better  than  he 
the  causes  of  the  Kevolution,  or  the  circumstances  by  which 
the  American  mind  was  influenced.  I  have  been  looking 
recently  at  a  letter  which  he  addressed,  in  1782,  to  a  cele 
brated  Frenchman,  who  was  about  doing  so  absurd  a  thing 
as  to  write  a  history  of  the  American  Revolution,  and  was 
asking  Mr.  Adams  about  the  authorities  necessary  for  that 
purpose.  In  his  reply,  written  in  English,  but  translated 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.  457 

into  French,  and  the  original  lost,  Mr.  Adams  observes, 
that  there  are  four  great  institutions  in  this  country,  to 
the  workings  of  which  he  must  pay  particular  attention. 
The  first  of  these  was  the  towns,  in  town  meetings  assem 
bled,  as  among  the  great  influences  causing  the  American 
Kevolution.  He  went  on  to  describe  the  practice  of  these 
towns*  and  adds  that  the  effect  of  that  institution  had  been 
that  all  the  inhabitants  had  acquired  from  their  youth  the 
habit  of  discussing,  deliberating,  and  determining  upon 
public  affairs.  It  was  among  these  little  primitive  and 
pure  democracies  that  the  sentiments  of  the  community, 
from  the  commencement  of  the  dispute  with  England  to 
the  surrender  at  Yorktown,  were  first  formed,  and  their 
resolutions  first  adopted.  Keep,  then,  these  schools  of 
thought  and  action  open,  as  you  keep  the  school-house  of 
the  child  open,  and  for  the  same  reason.  I  have  often  been 
struck  that  in  the  crowded  population  of  cities,  in  the 
meetings  of  clubs  and  societies,  men's  minds  become  very 
expert,  and  men  become  prompt  in  action.  The  agricul 
tural  mind,  on  the  contrary,  is  slower.  The  agricultural 
mind  is  differently  trained.  He  who  follows  that  profes 
sion  has  different  circumstances  around  him.  The  popula 
tion  is  sparse.  You  hear  already  that  there  is  a  total  loss 
of  interest  in  West  Roxbury  in  public  affairs. 

I  have  not  time  to  develope  the  idea,  but  I  am  sure  you 
will  regard  with  all  solicitude  every  institution  and  every 
influence  everywhere  that  shall  educate  the  mature  agri 
cultural  mind,  and  enable  it  to  perform  its  just  part  and 
hold  its  just  place  in  the  deliberations  of  the  Legislature 
and  of  the  State.  You  keep  open  the  free  school  of  the 
child.  For  God's  sake  do  not  shut  the  free  school  of  the 
man  ! 

I  put  it,  therefore,  to  you,  Mr.  Chairman,  to  my  friend 


458         REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

here,  and  I  submit  also  to  this  Commit  tee,  while  I  recog 
nize  the  necessity  of  a  city,  while  on  a  certain  area  and 
under  certain  circumstances,  the  city  government  is  indis 
pensable,  that,  outside  of  that,  "it  is  evil  and  only  evil, 
;ind  that  continually/'  I  do,  therefore,  submit  to  you, 
that  it  is  one  deserving,  in  this  case,  of  the  remedy  pro 
posed. 

I  go  for  good  government  by  itself;  and  I  think  a 
town  government  is  better  for  an  agricultural  district — ' 
better  for  the  agriculturist  as  a  man,  and  fits  him  better 
for  all  the  offices  in  the  Commonwealth.  Make  the  change 
we  ask  for,  and  Roxbury  takes  her  place  at  once  in  the  circle 
of  prosperity  that  surrounds  her.  Capital  and  taste  will 
add  the  beauties  of  art  to  the  beauties  of  nature.  Capital 
and  taste  will  then  come  to  beautify  and  adorn  ;  to  blend 
the  achievements  of  art  with  the  matchless  performances  of 
nature. 

But  my  brother  thinks  we  shall  drive  out  the  middling 
classes.  I  submit  to  you  that  over  and  above  the  million 
aires,  the  humble  settlers  will  be  directed  this  way  by  the 
Branch  Railroad.  These  improvements,  by  which  the 
wise  policy  of  your  predecessors  has  enabled  this  commu 
nity  to  avail  themselves  of  their  opportunities  for  taste  and 
enjoyment,  will  enable  men  who  work  all  day  in  town  to 
unite  themselves  to  their  families  at  night  and  treat  them 
selves  to  the  country  air.  What  that  is  worth  I  had  oc 
casion,  before  a  former  committee,  to  endeavor  to  explain. 
And  I  have  been  so  much  struck  by  the  inadequacy  of  my 
brother's  view  that  we  come  here  only  to  invite  the  mil 
lionaire  among  us,  that  I  have  to  ask  your  attention  to 
the  fact,  that  one  of  the  best  uses  of  this  town  will  be  the 
moral  influence  which  it  will  exert  upon  the  no  less  useful, 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.      459 

but  larger  branch  of  society,  the  middling  class.  I  had  oc 
casion,  in  advocating  the  establishment  of  a  Branch  Bail- 
road,  as  I  have  occasion  in  arguing  in  favor  of  the  establish 
ment  of  this  New  Home,  to  deal  with  the  moral  uses  of 
railways  and  of  legislation. 

But  in  my  judgment  no  use  of  railroads  is  more  worthy 
to  fix  the  attention  of  the  Legislature,  and  attract  its  favor,' 
than  this  of  enabling  the  man  of  small  means  to  spend  a 
portion  of  his  time  in  the  country,  without  prejudice  to  his 
means  of  livelihood.  The  evils  of  living  wholly  confined 
to  town  can  hardly  be  appreciated  by  you,  gentlemen,  who 
have  the  advantage  of  residing  elsewhere  ;  but  you  may 
have  formed  some  idea  of  them  from  what  you  have  seen 
in  winter.  This  road  will  give  the  man  of  limited  income, 
whose  bread,  and  whose  family  living,  depend  upon  his 
being  in  the  crowded  haunts  of  traffic  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  day,  the  chance  of  spending  his  evenings,  and 
his  Sabbaths,  in  the  pure  and  sweet  air  of  the  country,  in 
the  midst  of  his  household  circle,  on  his  own  little  spot  of 
ground,  and  yet  enable  him  to  be  the  next  morning  at  his 
desk  in  the  counting  house,  or  place  in  the  workshop,  with 
little  or  no  increase  of  cost.  And  I  shall  provoke  no  wise 
man's  sneer  when  I  say,  that  the  many  clusters  of  quiet 
cottages  and  beautiful  dwellings,  which  will  spring  up 
along  the  line  of  our  road,  affording  happy  homes  to  the 
man  of  business,  delightful  retreats  to  the  wearied  citizen, 
are  of  themselves  no  small  argument  in  favor  of  our 
petition.  *  *  *  I  put  it,  sir,  as  one  great  advantage, 
that  we  traverse  this  region  of  country  to  win  it  from  the 
wild  flower,  the  wild  bird,  the  night  breezes  of  the  sea,  and 
make  it  the  pleasant  abode  of  hundreds  who  would  else  sel 
dom  see  any  thing  but  dusty  streets,  and  forests  of  masts 


460     liEMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

tit  the  wharf's.  And  if  health  is  better  than  sickness,  a  full 
cheek  than  a  sunken  one,  a  bright,  clear  eye,  than  one  dim 
and  clouded,  a  happy  and  uncorrupt  heart  better  than  one 
tainted  and  debauched,  and  if  our  road  shall  be  the  means 
of  bringing  these  advantages  to  the  tired  and  driven  mer 
chant,  book-keeper,  or  clerk,  in  Kilby  or  Washington 
street,  whose  wildest  dreams  have  never  yet  indulged  in 
the  vision  of  a  country  seat  of  his  own,  the  charter  will 
not  have  been  granted,  nor  the  road  built,  in  vain. 

Give  us,  gentlemen,  the  government  we  seek,  and  this 
town  will  do  for  Koxbury  what,  thus  far,  the  matchless 
beauties  of  Koxbury  herself  have  been  unable  to  do  for 
herself.  Gentlemen,  it  will  do  more.  It  will  allay  excite 
ment  ;  it  will  reopen  fountains  of  feeling  ;  it  will  enable 
men  to  know  who  they  are  and  what  they  are  ;  it  will 
cover  you  with  the  gratitude  of  thousands  unknown  to 
you  by  sight  or  name,  with  no  vote  to  honor  or  reward 
you,  but  who  will  yet  thank  you,  and  the  government  for 
whom  you  act,  for  the  performance  of  a  great  beneficent 
deed,  I  think  too  long  delayed. 

THE   PINGKEE    CASE,    JANUARY   24,    1851. 

This  case  grew  out  of  the  insolvency  of  David  Pingree, 
a  gentleman  who  had  been  considered  very  wealthy,  and 
whose  failure  astonished  everybody.  I  heard  Mr.  Choate's 
argument  against  the  assignees  of  Mr.  Pingree  and  for  the 
defendant  corporation,  and  noted  some  of  his  points. 

Among  other  things,  one  of  the  witnesses  let  fall  the 
remark  that  Mr.  Pingree  had  said,  "  He'd  be  d — d  if  his 
creditors  should  get  a  cent/'  Commenting  on  this,  Mr. 
Choate  said  : — 

They  have  said,  I  know  not  for  what  reason,  save  to 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.      461 

cast  one  more  shadow  over  the  sun  of  his  prosperity,  now 
transiently  eclipsed,  that  he  said  something  which  slwived 
a  disposition  to  keep  his  creditors  out  of  their  money. 
This  is,  indeed,  news  to  me  and  to  my  brother  and  to  all 
the  friends  of  David  Pingree.  No,  the  principles  by 
which  he  amassed  his  vast  fortune,  are — the  last  cent  to 
the  creditor,  the  last  plank,  the  last  nail  of  the  plank,  all 
to  him  ;  and  it  will  be  written  on  his  grave,  if  the  maxims 
of  his  life  are  there  concentrated  and  engraved,  as  the 
maxim  of  his  all,  "  Justice  to  the  Creditor  " 

They  say,  the  defendant  company  told  him  they 
wouldn't  pay.  They  said  they  had  suffered  great  losses 
by  his  neglect,  by  that  culpable,  irremediable  idleness  in 
the  spring  months  ;  that  if  he  wras  damaged,  they  were  by 
him  half  bankrupt ;  his  neglect  had  done  it  all ;  the  fruit 
ye  sowed,  said  they,  shall  ye  not  also  reap  ?  The  years 
wasted  in  youth  demand  a  heavy  reckoning  in  age  ;  if  ye 
sow  the  storm,  shall  ye  not  also  reap  the  whirlwind  ? 

Such  was  Choate's  eloquent  rendering  of  a  simple  collo 
quy.  Probably  the  actual  words  which  passed  on  the  oc 
casion,  thus  eloquently  described,  between  the  company  and 
the  plaintiff,  were  only  a  demand  for  pay  and  a  reply  that 
they  couldn't  pay,  for  they  had  been  more  seriously  injured 
by  him  than  benefited. 

Choate  being  for  a  corporation,  closed  very  adoitly  : 
"  I  know  we're  unpopular.  It  would  be  vain  to  dissemble 
that ;  every  lawyer  knows  that.  But  I  put  this  case  upon 
the  honor,  upon  the  conscience,  upon  the  oath  of  the  jury. 
I  am  not  about  to  appeal  to  your  feelings,  I  rest  upon  your 
minds/' 

Then  having  thrown  them  off  of  any  expectation  of 
an  appeal  to  their  feelings,  he  goes  on  :  But  let  me  say, 


462        REMINISCENCES    OF    BUFUS    CHOATE. 

that  when  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  contracts  can  be  set 
•iside,  in  a  court  of  law,  because  they're  unpopular,  our 
whole  social  organization  will  tumble  to  the  ground. 
Only  let  me  remind  you,  that  the  house  you  live  in,  Mr. 
Foreman,  is  yours  and  not  mine,  only  by  contract.  The 
bed  you  sleep  on,  and  you  and  you  (looking  at  the  suc 
cessive  jurymen)  is  yours  and  not  mine,  only — by  contract; 
and  when,  I  say,  it  shall  happen  that  contracts  are  legally 
evaded,  there  will  be  the  real  red  republicanism  in  full  riot 
among  us — Bed  Republicanism  !  yes,  scarlet  red. 

SINGLE   PASSAGES   AND    FELICITIES. 

In  a  case  in  the  Supreme  Court,  February  14,  1852, 
Mr.  Charles  B.  Goodrich  was  the  counsel  opposed  to  Mr. 
Choate.  He  is  an  eminent  lawyer.  Choate,  in  arguing  on 
law,  misquoted  an  authority,  by  a  slip  of  the  tongue  call 
ing  it  "  Goodrich's  Eeports,  Vol.  I."  He  instantly  cor 
rected  his  error  of  the  name,  but,  turning  with  a  patroniz 
ing  dignity  to  the  opposite  counsel,  he  added,  "  I  don't 
doubt  it's  all  in  Goodrich,  however." 

Any  lawyer  would  have  felt  gratified  by  so  felicitous  a 
compliment. 

In  the  case  of  Mr.  Thomas  Perkins,  a  gentleman  who 
was  sued  for  accidentally  running  over  a  child,  Mr.  Choate 
said,  in  allusion  to  the  testimony  of  his  medical  experts 
upon  the  condition  of  the  child  :  "  We  have  called,  Gen 
tlemen  of  the  jury,  the  most  venerable  physicians — those 
whom  you  would  call  if  your  wife  were  smitten  with  the 
arrows  of  death  ;  whom  the  nation  would  call  when  the 
mortal  agony  was  on  the  man  they  loved — the  (  old  man 
eloquent.'  They  speak  one  voice." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   4G3 

Mr.  Choate's  acute  analysis  of  evidence  is  well  illus 
trated  by  a  commentary  I  remember  bearing  him  make  in 
one  of  bis  cases,  on  a  witness. 

The  witness  testified  that  the  plaintiff  fell  on  a  grate, 
in  a  southerly  direction.  "  But,"  said  Choate,  "here  were 
no  less  than  three  disturbing  elements  to  prevent  the  wit 
ness  from  seeing  exactly  how  he  fell.  First,  his  fall  ;  sec 
ond,  his  instinctive  struggle  as  he  fell ;  third,  the  rush  of 
his  companion  to  him." 

A  captain  of  a  whale  ship  was  sued  by  his  seamen  for 
giving  them  short  commons  and  bad  treatment.  Choate 
was  for  the  captain.  The  crew  was  a  bad  one,  and  he  had 
no  difficulty  in  dealing  with  the  charge  of  ill-treatment  ; 
but  with  the  poor  fare  he  had  much  more  trouble.  The 
sailors  appeared  and  testified  in  the  case. 

Choate  asked  one  of  them,  aWhat  did  you  have  on 
Sunday?"  He  replied,  "  Duff."  "What  is  duff?" 
"  Flour  pudding  and  molasses."  Next  he  asked,  "  What 
did  you  have  on  Tuesday  ?"  He  replied,  "  Dundy  funk." 
"  What's  dundy  funk  ?"  said  Choate.  "  Mince  meat  and 
potatoes,"  was  the  reply.  "  What  did  you  have  on  Thurs 
day  ?"  was  next  asked.  "  Lob-scouse,"  was  the  reply. 
"  What's  lob-scouse  ?"  "  It's  a  stew." 

It  appeared,  in  the  course  of  the  trial,  that  the  captain 
put  into  the  Cape  de  Verds  to  procure  vegetables.  He  suc 
ceeded  in  procuring  a  large  quantity  of  squashes,  but  could 
only  obtain  some  dozen  onions,  of  which  he  gave  one  to 
each  of  the  crew  and  retained  one  himself. 

When  Choate  came  to  this  branch  of  the  case,  he  said  : 
"  It  is  in  evidence,  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  that  we  had  duff 
on  Sunday,  dundy-funk  on  Tuesday,  and  on  Thursday 
that  delicious  compound,  lob-scouse.  And  not  only  did 


464        REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

the  captain  furnish  an  abundant  supply  of  that  esculent 
and  succulent  vegetable  of  the  tropics,  the  squash ;  but  with 
his  own  hand — aye,  with  his  own  paternal  hand — he  di 
vided  the  onions  among  that  ungrateful  and  rebellious 
crew  !" 

A  blacksmith  had  failed  in  business.  A  friend,  to  enable 
him  to  start  once  more,  loaned  him  some  iron.  A  creditor 
attached  it  at  his  forge,  almost  as  soon  as  he  lifted  his 
hammer  to  work.  The  friendly  owner  sued  in  trover  for 
his  iron.  Choate  was  for  him.  After  picturing  the  cruelty 
of  the  proceeding,  referring  to  the  unnecessary  harshness 
of  the  attaching  sheriff,  who  stopped  the  blacksmith  in  the 
very  act  of  shoeing  a  horse,  Choate  said  : 

He  arrested  the  arm  of  industry,  as  it  fell  upon  the 
anvil ;  he  took  the  wind  from  the  bellows  that  kindled  the 
lire  on  the  forge  ;  he  stripped  his  shop  of  the  material — 
the  foundation  of  his  labor — not  leaving  him  iron  enough 
to  make  a  horse  shoe  to  put  over  the  door  to  keep  the 
witches  off. 


PETITION   FOR    A   RAILROAD   FROM    SALEM   TO   DANVERS. 

[Extracts  from  the  Speech  of  Mr.  Chbato,  before  Legislative  Committee,  February  28, 

1851.] 

MR.  CHAIRMAN, 

I  have,  in  the  first  place,  to  represent  that  unfortunate, 
and  yet  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  say,  still  meritorious  corpo 
ration,  the  Essex  Kailroad  Corporation  ;  and  then  to  en 
counter  the  Salem  and  Lowell  Railroad  Corporation,  backed 
up  more  or  less  by  the  Lowell  and  Lawrence  Railroad 
Corporation,  and  also  backed  up  by  the  Eastern  Railroad 
Corporation. 


KEMIN1SCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.  465 

Against  this  joint  petition,  covert  or  open,  I  have  the 
honor  to  make  this  comprehensive  and  I  trust  decisive 
general  reply  ;  that  what  these  petitioners  ask  for  is  a 
parallel  and  competing  railroad,  in  the  strictest  and  most 
offensive  sense,  along  its  whole  length,  of  exactly  the  same 
kind  and  the  policy  as  those  which  the  Legislature  has  de 
cided  so  many  times  were  not  fit  to  be  granted  ;  that  there 
is  not  the  least  particle  of  necessity  for  it  according  to  the 
doctrine  which  has  been  immemorially  established  by  this 
government,  that  the  evil  shall  outweigh  the  good  ;  and 
that  all  the  good  may  be  accomplished  in  another  way,  so 
as  to  avoid  every  one  of  the  ills  to  be  apprehended  from 
the  course  petitioned  for.  So  that,  therefore,  I  do  respect 
fully  submit  that  to  establish  the  road  prayed  for  by  this 
petition  is  to  work  a  totally  needless  and  a  totally  uncom- 
pensated  mischief.  That  is  in  a  general  way  the  answer 
we  have  to  make  to  at  least  the  Salem  and  Lowell  Kailroad. 
To  this  I  have  in  the  briefest  terms  to  invite  the  candor  of 
the  Committee. 

In  the  first  place,  that  it  is  the  most  bold,  decided,  and 
flagrant  competing  railroad  is  perfectly  clear.  In  its  wrhole 
length,  it  is  all  but  a  mathematical  coincident  with  our 
own.  It  approaches  within  seven  feet,  for  a  considerable 
distance,  of  the  track  of  our  corporation.  It  dares  to  rest 
itself  upon  our  very  road-bed,  too  near,  a  great  deal,  ac 
cording  to  the  testimony  of  the  experts  in  this  case,  for  the 
operation  of  the  engines  ;  too  near  for  the  lives  and  limbs 
of  the  officers  and  operatives,  if  their  lives  and  limbs  are 
of  any  account ;  so  close  as  to  render  it  very  dangerous  to 
make  any  repairs  or  to  clear  off  any  obstructions  from 
either  road,  while  the  other  is  in  operation. 

I  submit  that  this  is  a  perfectly  plain  case  of  a  paral 
lel  and  competing  railroad  within  the  Commonwealth,  and 


466        REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

directly  subject  to  the  evils  applicable  to  this  species  of 
property. 

One  word  in  passing  only.  Permit  me  to  say  that  it 
would  be  one  of  the  most  cruel  disappointments  of  the 
most  reasonable  expectations  of  these  hundreds  of  little 
proprietors  whom  I  have  the  honor  here  to  represent ;  it 
would  be  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  acts  that  has  ever 
been  witnessed  in  Massachusetts  legislation,  to  comply 
with  the  request  of  the  petitioners.  When  that  road  was 
projected,  it  was  known  that  it  was  built  for  Lawrence 
business,  and  it  is  proved  by  the  evidence  in  this  case.  It 
was  seen  that  there  was  a  new  Lowell  rising.  And  this 
Railroad  was  to  bring  the  products  of  the  water  power  of 
that  new  Lowell  to  Salem  harbor.  The  men  and  women, 
the  five  hundred  dollar  holders  and  the  five  dollar  holders 
of  the  stock,  led  by  a  man  whose  name  has  been  honored 
in  this  corporation,  entered  into  this  project  which  I  have 
indicated.  And  a  reasonable  protection  in  the  pursuit  of 
that  object  you  gave.  I  will  not  say,  you  break  your  faith 
if  you  take  it  away.  All  this  strong  theory  is  exploded  by 
the  decision  of  the  judicial  tribunal.  But  you  gave  us  a 
reasonable  assurance  that,  unless  an  exigency  demanded, 
we  might  trust  you. 

What  have  we  before  you  ?  We  have  this  state  of 
things.  This  inconvenience,  this  exigency  of  theirs  may 
be,  to  a  reasonable  and  probable  certainty,  removed  in  a 
better  and  in  a  less  mischievous  and  injurious  way.  That 
is  our  answer  to  their  exigency.  And  on  that  answer,  I, 
with  entire  confidence,  rely.  A  double  track,  now  nearly 
constructed,  with  some  comparatively  trivial  but  perfectly 
practical  arrangements  of  details,  will  cure  it  instantly  and 


REMINISCENCES    OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.  467 

perfectly.  Yes,  gentlemen,  without  the  scandal  of  a  rail 
road  laid  for  a  couple  of  miles  within  seven  feet  of  an 
other  ;  without  the  scandal  of  a  railroad,  so  that  one  shall 
occupy  the  very  bed  of  another  ;  without  a  competition 
with  ourselves  ;  without  taking  away  the  hope  of  a  cor 
poration  by  taking  away  its  business  ;  without  enabling  a 
friend  to  nestle  in  its  bosom,  and  then  to  sting  it  to  death ; 
without  taking  private  property  to  the  amount  of  a  farthing  ; 
without  withdrawing  private  capital  to  the  third  of  a  mill ; 
without  laying  a  railroad  across  another  railroad  on  the 
same  grade,  as  if  human  life  were  of  no  value  ;  sparing  us 
all  these,  the  double  track,  together  with  such  details  as  1 
shall  show  you,  will  probably,  ivill  probably,  WILL  PROBA 
BLY,  and  that  is  enough  for  the  human  lawgiver,  will,  to  a 
moral  certainty,  probably  exhaust  every  exigency  that  shall 
come  before  you,  and  cause,  instead  of  uncounted  mischief, 
unmixed  good,  which  I  am  sure  my  friend  on  the  other  side 
will  agree  is  better. 

That  is  all  my  case.  And  that  is  case  enough.  I  put 
it  to  you  that  that  single  proposition  upon  the  subject  of 
the  exigency,  and  the  mode  of  meeting  that  exigency, 
argues  and  disposes  of  this  case. 

We  are  in  your  hands  ;  not  appealing  to  your  sensi 
bilities,  not  offering  to  you  votes  ;  but  we  arc  in  your 
equity  and  in  your  justice.  Extend  to  us  only  the  settled 
policy  of  this  Commonwealth  against  sharp  parallel  com 
petition  ;  do  not  lay  this  fierce  competitor  in  our  very 
couch  ;  instead  of  taking  our  road-bed  for  him  to  lie  down 
on,  give  us  three,  four  or  five  per  cent,  for  an  income  ;  allow 
us  to  go  into  the  market  to  get  money  ;  and  my  life  on  it, 
on  the  testimony  of  men  whom  I  have  deemed  all  but 
oracular,  that  road  will  come  up  again  upon  its  feet,  and 


468  REMINISCENCES    OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE. 

you  will  gladden  many  a  heart  of  which,  you  will  know 
nothing  ;  you  will  raise  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  and 
give  it  as  absolutely  to  the  currents  of  life  and  circula 
tion  as  if  it  were  so  much  gold  dug  from  the  fathomless 
mines. 

et  aLj  vs.  JAMES  BROWN. 

This  was  a  case  tried  in  February,,  1856,  in  the  United 
States  Circuit  Court,  in  which  the  defendant  was  sued  for 
damages  for  writing  a  letter  to  the  plaintiff  which  induced 
him  to  sell  to  a  certain  person  on  credit,  which  person  proved 
insolvent.  It  was  not  pretended  that  there  was  any  moral 
intent  to  deceive.  The  case  excited  great  interest,  from 
the  wealth  and  standing  of  the  parties,  as  well  as  its  rather 
unusual  character. 

Mr.  Choate  began  his  argument,  by  saying  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  he  stood  up  before  the  jury,  so  unwell  was 
he.  I  noticed  myself  how  unusually  wan  and  woe-begone 
he  looked,  but  in  some  portions  of  the  speech  he  rose  to 
great  heights  of  power  and  splendor.  His  unfathomable 
eyes  burned  with  a  basilisk  glare,  as  his  feelings  got  the 
upper  hand,  and  the  thick  folds  of  his  pale  countenance 
vvrorked  in  strange  contortions  in  the  extremity  of  his  pas 
sions.  The  Bar  was  crowded  with  lawyers  and  Cambridge 
students. 

Mr.  Choate  began  in  his  usually  impressive  and  slow 
manner,  apparently  bowed  down  with  the  sense  of  the  re 
sponsibility  resting  upon  him.  His  long  pale  fingers  trem 
bled  like  the  aspen  leaf,  as  he  turned  over  his  enigmatical 
papers  before  him.  He  alluded  in  a  highly  complimentary 
way  to  Governor  Clifford's  (his  adversary)  argument,  char 
acterizing  it  as  "powerful  brilliant,  and  beautiful."  He 


REMINISCENCES     OF     HUE  US     C  HO  ATE.          469 

more  than  once  afterwards  called  it  a  "  silver  argument." 
After  his  exordium  he  soon  lighted  up  the  fires  of  his  mind. 

The  following  are  a  few  of  the  lighter  flashes  that 
played  over  the  solid  links  of  his  argument.  They  were 
highly  appreciated  by  the  persons  present,  and  a  friend 
took  them  down  at  the  time.  A  good  deal  of  their  effect 
is  lost  here. 

Speaking  of  securities  being  given  of  houses  in  New 
York  city  to  a  person  of  Boston,  which  were  burned  down 
immediately,  he  screamed  into  the  ears  of  the  jury,  "  what 
kind  of  security  do  you  call  half  a  dozen  loads  of  ashes 
and  cinders,  and  a  feiu  controverted  policies  ?" 

When  speaking  of  his  client's  bales  of  wool,  which  he 
had  sold  to  a  person  on  the  recommendation  of  his  solv 
ency  by  the  defendant,  who,  to  secure  himself,  had  at 
tached  this  very  wool,  he  shouted,  "  Better  had  my  client 
thrown  the  bales  of  wool  out  of  the  window  into  the  dock 
at  spring  tide  and  water  gathered  by  a  hurricane,  than  to 
have  done  as  he  did."  Again  :  "  Shall  our  wool  go  to 
wrap  up  the  defendant's  character  from  the  cold  ?" 

When  reading  and  commenting  upon  the  letter  written 
by  the  defendant  representing  the  corporation  solvent,  to 
which  his  client  thereby  became  a  creditor,  he  dwelt  a  good 
deal  on  the  words  "naked  construction."  Said  he,  "I  like 
that  word  c  naked  ;'  it  is  a  classical  word — means  clear, 
broad  daylight ;  naked  truth/' 

Alluding  to  a  young  man  of  whom  the  defendant  de 
sired  it  to  appear  that,  on  account  of  his  inexperience  and 
deep  sense  of  morality  he  would  do  nothing  positively 
wrong,  lie  said  with  the  keenest  sarcasm,  "A  positive  as 
surance  he  found  it,  and  being  a  young  man  (ironically)  it 
touched  his  heart."  This  was  said  in  so  sly  and  queer  a 
tone  that  every  person  in  the  room  screamed  with  laughter. 


470  REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

The  defendant,  who,  during  Governor  Clifford's  argu 
ment,  looked  up  with  a  good  deal  of  self-assurance,  and 
seemed  to  feel  certain  of  his  entire  right  in  the  cause, 
now  looked  down-drooping  all  the  time,  as  the  orator 
went  on. 

At  12  o'clock  the  Court  took  a  recess  of  a  few  minutes, 
and  when  it  again  assembled  the  judge  announced  that 
Mr.  Choate  was  too  ill  to  proceed,  and  adjourned  over  till 
Tuesday  at  10  o'clock,  A.  M. 

Tuesday.  Mr.  Choate  resumed  his  argument  this  morn 
ing  at  10  o'clock.  He  began  laboring  with  all  his  energies 
to  show  the  jury  how  great  was  the  fraud  done  upon  his 
client  by  Mr.  Brown's  letter  to  Mr.  T.  B.  Curtis.  "  The 
letter  was  written  to  be  read ;"  he  said,  "  as  much  as 
Washington's  Farewell  Address,  or  Junius'  Letter  to  the 
King  (which  Edmund  Burke  said  made  the  flesh  crawl  to 
read),  or  an  advertisement  over  a  door,  was  written  to  be 
read." 

Turning  to  Governor  Clifford,  he  said  :  "  There  are  a 
few  lines  which  perhaps  my  brother  Clifford,  being  a  young 
man,  may  not  remember,  but  which  the  Court  may,  much 
used  by  old  Federalists  in  '  Torpedo  Times/  to  ridicule 
the  administration  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  which  ran  thus  : 

"  '  We'll  blow  the  Administration  sky-high, 
But  we'll  do  it  with  econo?m'e.' 

"  These  lines  Mr.  Brown  [the  defendant]  has  changed 
slightly,  and  they  run  thus  : 

'• '  "We'll  blow  the  wool  merchants  sky-high, 
But  we'U  do  it  confidential??/.' " 

The  effect  was  electrical  on  the  hearers.  The  word 
"confidential,"  written  at  the  head  of  the  fatal  letter, 
had  so  much  importance  in  the  case  that  it  is  impossible, 


REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS     CHOATE.      471 

outside,  to  give  the  slightest  notion  of  its  effect  in  the 
couplet  which  he  framed  for  the  occasion.  The  letter  from 
Brown  to  Curtis  was  marked  "  confidential/'  and  the  ora 
tor  ingeniously  interpreted  it  to  mean  (among  many  mean 
ings  he  gave  it  for  his  own  purpose)  that  Curtis  might 
show  it  to  whom  he  pleased,  but  not  to  mention  from 
whom  it  came  ;  that  confidential,  in  the  sense  it  had  in 
the  letter,  meant  that  the  writer  himself  should  not  "be 
known.  "  What  was  the  letter  designed  for  ?"  he  shouted. 
"  Did  Mr.  Brown  think  Mr.  Curtis  was  going  to  run  up 
and  down  the  street  with  his  finger  on  the  side  of  his  nose 
and  hold  forth  to  all  that  Orin  Thomson  was  solvent,  and 
that  he  knew  him  to  "be  so,  and  Mr.  Brown  kept  in  the 
dark  ?  No  !  Mr.  Curtis  is  a  man  of  honor,  and  would  re 
ply  to  Mr.  Brown  as  the  youthful  Alexander  Hamilton 
did  to  the  great  Washington — c  that  he  venerated  him, 
that  he  respected  him,  but  he  never  would  be  his  lackey/ 
If  the  house  of  Mr.  Curtis  had  burned  down,  and  the  plain 
tiff  had  found  such  a  letter — lost  amidst  the  confusion  of 
burning — he  would  not  have  presented  it  as  an  inducement 
to  him  to  make  sales  to  Thomson  &  Co.  No,  the  defend 
ant  could  then  reply,  c  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it/  r' 

To  show  how  a  person  might  make  a  mortgage  of  his 
property  and  at  the  same  time  be  worth  as  much  or  more 
than  before  (a  circumstance  pertinent  to  this  case),  Gov 
ernor  Clifford,  in  his  argument,  made  the  following  suppo 
sition  :  "  Suppose,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should  mortgage  my 
house  that  overlooks  a  fine  bay  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  State,  and  is  perhaps  worth  $20,000,  for  the  sum  of 
$15,000,  and  with  that  $15,000  I  should  buy  an  estate 
worth  $30,000,  should  I  be  worse  off,  or  poorer,  because  I 
had  mortgaged  my  house  ?" 

Choate  answered   this,  to  my  great  astonishment,  in 


472       REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S      C  II  O  A  T  E . 

three  complete  refutations  of  it,  as  it  applied  to  the  prop 
erty  of  Thomson  &  Co.,  and  this  was  the  property  to  which 
Mr.  Clifford  had  likened  it. 

"First,"  said  he,  (and  he  straightened  up  his  gaunt  form 
as  he  spoke)  "  the  property  was  mortgaged  to  pay  an  old 
debt — to  pay  for  a  dead  horse.  Secondly,  it  was  mortgaged 
to  pay  a  new  debt  to  an  extent  far  beyond  its  value  ;  and, 
thirdly,  it  was  pledged  to  meet  future  liabilities  to  an  enor 
mous  amount."  It  is  not  clear,  from  what  is  here  stated, 
how  some  of  this  could  well  be,  and  I  am  not  familiar 
enough  with  the  circumstances  to  state  the  sums  for  which 
the  property  was  mortgaged. 

His  peroration  was  very  impressive ;  and  the  audience 
hung  fascinated  on  his  closing  words,  in  breathless  silence, 
as  if  they  were  the  last  syllables  of  an  unearthly  visitant. 
He  made  a  very  apt  quotation  from  "  The  Merchant  of 
Venice ;"  and  speaking  of  his  clients,  one  of  whom,  Mr. 
lasi^i,  was  from  Greece,  and  the  other,  Mr.  Goddard,  from 

O    "  j  1 

New  England,  he  said  :  "  It  matters  not,  Gentlemen  of  the 
jury,  who  it  is  seeks  for  justice ;  it  is  as  much  one's  as 
another's  ;  as  much  Mr.  Goddard's,  the  son  of  a  Boston 
mechanic,  as  it  is  due  to  the  other,  an  adopted  son  from 
the  bright  shores  of  the  Egean  Sea." 


THE    CITY    OF    BOSTON. 

January  30,  1856. — Mr.  Choate  yesterday,  in  the  hear 
ing  before  the  full  Bench  of  the  Supreme  Court,  in  the 
suit  brought  by  a  plaintiff  against  Major  General  Edmands 
and  others,  for  injuries  received  by  the  soldiery  at  the 
rendition  of  Anthony  Burns,  made  some  fine  points,  which 
I  preserved  add  committed  to  paper. 


KEMINISCENCES    OF    EUFUS     CHOATE.  473 

He  said  :  May  it  please  your  Honors,  I  never  voted  for 
Mayor  Smith,  but  I  now  vote  him  my  thanks  for  doing 
just  what  they  charge  upon  him;  so  ought  every  man  who 
owns  a  house  in  Boston ;  so  ought  every  man  who  had  a 
child  in  Boston,  or  a  friend  in  Boston  on  that  day. 

What  !  shall  the  City  be  allowed  the  privilege,  ac 
corded  in  every  refined,  and  delicate,  and  decorous  civiliza 
tion,  of  closing  her  streets  against  all  unseemly  intrusion, 
whenever  she  moves  in  funeral  or  festive  solemnity  or  pa 
geantry,  and  the  State  has  her  robes  on,  and  shall  she  not 
stop  her  streets  when  Death  yawns  and  Terror  speaks  in 
the  faces  of  the  multitude  ? 

Who  can  go  back  now  and  see  and  inquire  what  causes 
Mayor  Smith  had  of  reasonable  apprehenson  that  there 
would  be  danger  of  bloody  riot  ?  Can  we  look  again  on 
that  threatening  face  of  a  menacing  crowd  ?  Can  we  hear 
the  sounds  and  see  the  sights  which  then  rung  and  flashed 
on  ear  and  eye  ? 

That  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall !  They  counseled  no 
violence.  Oh  no — no  violence  !  The  dial  spoke  not,  but 
it  made  most  manifest  signs,  and  pointed  to  the  stroke  of 
murder ; — three  hours  afterwards,  Batchelder  was  killed! 
Oh  no — no  violence  !  no  violence  ! 

Mr.  Ellis,  counsel  for  plaintiff,  here  started  to  his  feet, 
with  great  excitement  of  manner,  and  interrupted.  The 
Chief  Justice  rumbled  forth  something  inaudible  ;  the 
spectators  stared.  Burly  and  bluff  John  P.  Hale,  who  was 
present  as  senior  counsel  for  plaintiff,  rose  also  ;  and  for  a 
moment  all  was  stir  and  sensation  in  this  court  drama  ;  in 
the  midst  of  all  which  Mr.  Choate  stood  erect,  rampant, 
defiant,  and  with  dilated  nostril,  as  if  snuffing  up  the  air, 
in  disdainful  and  daring  arrogance. 


474       REMINISCENCES     OF     B  U  F  U  S     CHOATE. 

MARINE   INSURANCE    CASE. 
[George  S.  Hillard  for  Plaintiff,  Euftis  Choate  for  the  Defendant,  or  Insurance  Company.] 

Mr.  Choate,  for  the  defendant,  made  two  principal 
points,  and  I  took  down  some  of  his  argument : 

1st.  The  vessel  was  stowed  in  a  manner  to  make  her  mi- 
seaworthy. 

2d.  She  was  not  lost  by  a  peril  enumerated  in  the 
policy, 

He  said  :  The  vessel  after  leaving  the  smooth  water  of 
Boston  harbor  encountered  the  eternal  motion  of  the  ocean, 
which  has  been  there  from  creation,  and  will  be  there  till 
land  and  sea  shall  be  no  more.  But  she  was  so  laden,  and 
her  pumps  were  so  bad,  she  was  no  better  than  a  coffin  for 
all  on  board. 

She  went  down  the  harbor,  said  he,  a  painted  and  per 
fidious  thing  ;  soul  freighted,  but  a  coffin  for  the  living — a 
coffin  for  the  dead.  Meaning  thereby  to  intimate  that  she 
was  not  seaworthy  at  the  start. 

Again,  he  said,  They  say  the  entire  demoralization  of 
the  crew,  disheartened,  etc.,  was  a  cause  justifying  her 
abandonment.  What,  was  the  forecastle  to  determine  the 
abandonment  ?  I  have  heard  that  always  in  all  great  en 
counters,  on  land  or  sea,  with  the  enemy  or  the  elements, 
the  rank  and  file  have  always  flinched.  It  is  the  officers 
who  have  upheld  the  morale  ;  and,  therefore,  in  all  the  great 
engagements  of  every  nation,  English,  German,  or  the  more 
gallant  French,  our  own,  every  one, — the  mortality  of  bat 
tle  has  always  been  severest  on  the  officers  ;  and  I  have  to 
say,  that  this  Yankee  captain  somewhat  failed  of  his  duty 
to  his  Yankee  ship,  in  yielding  to  this  demoralized  crew. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.   475 


SUNDRY   PETITIONS 

[For  a  railroad  by  different  routes,  from  Boston  to  the  valley  of  the  Blackstone,  in  Massa 
chusetts.    1847.     Heard  before  a  Committee  of  the  Legislatui-e.] 

Notes  taken  at  the  hearing  by  a  friend  ; — Mr.  Choate, 
for  the  petitioners  of  the  Perkins  route,  closed  substan 
tially  as  follows  : — 

Give  us  this  road,  Mr.  Chairman  (alluding  to  Colonel 
Bullock,  of  Worcester,  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Kail- 
ways  and  Canals  on  the  part  of  the  House),  and  your  name 
will  live  for  ever  in  the  memory  of  the  people  of  Worcester  ; 
for  we  propose  to  locale  our  road  in  Blackstone,  Massachu 
setts,  and  not  in  Woonsocket,  in  the  State  of  Khode  Island 
and  Providence  Plantations.  Give  it  to  us,  and  you  will 
secure  for  yourself  an  immortality  that  it  falls  to  the  lot  of 
few  to  attain ;  give  it  to  us,  and  we  will  build  a  magnifi 
cent  city  in  that  old  county  of  Worcester,  worthy  of  the  age 
in  which  we  live  ;  give  it  to  us,  and  we  will  bring  into  ac 
tion  the  mighty  but  sleeping  energies  of  nature  ; — water 

enough,  sir,  for  two  Lowells — not  one — two. 

*  #  #  *  *  *  *- 

In  reference  to  the  Walpole  route,  which  was  a  little 
and  short  spur  of  railroad,  crossing  from  one  location  to 
another,  and  of  which,  while  seeming  indifferent,  his  clients 
were  really  very  much  afraid,  he  said  ; — Pardon  me,  Mr. 
Chairman  and  gentlemen,  in  presuming  to  occupy  your  time 
for  a  single  moment,  for  a  single  moment  only,  to  barely 
allude  to  that  insignificant  project,  known  here  before  you 
as  the  Walpole  route  ;  so  ably  represented  by  my  brother, 
Mr.  John  C.  Park.  Less  than  thirty  seconds  will  suffice 
me  in  saying  what  I  have  to  say  in  regard  to  this  project 
of  so  little  consequence  to  us.  For  I  believe,  sir,  that 
Goldsmith  must  have  had  this  very  identical  route  in  his 
mind  wli^n  ho.  said 


476    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

"  Man  wants  but  little  here  below, 

Nor  wants  that  little  long."     (Great  laughter.) 
X  #  *  *  #  # 

In  reference  to  the  Pettee  route,  he  observed  :  Allow  me 
now  to  lay  aside  the  advocate  for  a  single  moment,  a  single 
moment,  Mr.  Chairman,  and  speak  as  a  citizen  of  Boston. 

As  a  citizen  of  Boston,  I  protest  against  the  establish 
ment  of  this  gigantic  and  stupendous  nuisance,  (proposed 
depot  building  on  Charles  street,  near  the  Common)  to  be 
placed  in  that  beautiful  locality.  I  speak  not  for  the 
wealth  or  the  aristocracy  of  Beacon  street,  but  for  the 
masses  ;  the  men,  women  and  children  who  desire  to  breathe 
the  air  of  heaven,  undisturbed  and  unmolested,  after  the 
toils,  labors  and  excitements  of  the  day,  upon  this  beauti 
ful  Common  of  ours,  the  pride  and  ornament  of  our  city. 
Blessed  be  the  memory  of  that  public  benefactor  who  gave 
us  this  charming  spot,  surrounded  with  such  wise  restric 
tions  !  And  I  beseech  you,  I  implore  you,  to  look  with  un 
favorable  eyes  upon  any  project  which  will  transfer  from 
our  business  centers  the  liurly  burly  of  all  creation  to  the 
Western  Avenue.  Listen,  I  beg  of  you,  with  unwilling 
ears,  to  any  proposition  that  will  so  seriously,  so  effectually, 
so  disastrously  annoy  us,  and  disturb  the  peace,  the  com 
fort,  the  happiness  of  this  entire  community.  Plant  this 
depot  there,  and  we  will  bid  farewell,  a  long  farewell  to  all 
quiet  and  repose,  and  our  eyes  will  behold  the  inauguration 
of  chaos  and  confusion.  Protect  us  from  this  desecration, 
this  terrible  disaster  which  threatens  us,  this  terror  incog- 
nitics,  and  the  blessings  of  thousands  of  the  living  will  be 
upon  your  heads,  and  the  benedictions  of  posterity  will  be 
upon  the  memory  of  this  generation. 

But  grant  the  prayer  of  Mr.  Pettee,  and  where  there  is 
peace  and  quiet  and  order  now,  you  will  have  the  awful 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.  477 

glare  and  thundering  pace  of  engines — steam,  fire,  thunder, 
lightning,  Stromboli,  whistles,  Etna,  Vesuvius — Hell  itself, 
sir,  will  break  loose  ! — and  all  this  for  Mr.  Pettee's  rail 
road  ! 

DESCRIPTION    OF    THE    TRIAL    AND    ARGUMENT    OF    THE 
DALTON    DIVORCE   CASE. 

There  have  been  but  few  cases  tried  in  our  Boston 
courts,  which  have  excited  more  wide  and  rapt  interest 
than  did  the  libel  for  a  divorce  brought  by  Mr.  Frank  Dai- 
ton  against  his  wife  (born  Miss  Helen  Gove).  Some  time 
before,  a  sort  of  intrigue  had  been  supposed  to  have  been 
discovered  by  the  husband  between  his  wife  and  a  youth 
named  Sumner.  Upon  this  discovery,  the  wife  had  been 
compelled  by  her  husband  to  get  Sumner  to  the  house, 
and  there  he  was  terribly  beaten  by  him.  The  youth  went 
home  after  the  beating,  was  taken  sick,  and  soon  died. 
Dalton  was  tried  for  the  assault,  but  it  was  not  clear  that 
the  deceased  died  directly  from  the  eifects  of  the  beating  ; 
and  he  was  not  convicted  of  manslaughter.  There  was 
then  a  reconciliation  between  husband  and  wife.  Subse 
quently,  however,  from  some  cause,  the  husband  left  her, 
and  filed  his  libel  for  divorce.  Mr.  Choate  appeared  for 
the  lady,  and  against  the  divorce. 

The  whole  argument  was  most  carefully  reported  pho- 
nographically,  and  as  it  was  of  such  public  interest,  it  will 
doubtless  be  found  in  the  collection  of  his  works.  I  pre 
fer,  therefore,  rather  than  to  print  any  imperfect  portions 
of  it,  to  give  an  outline  description  of  it,  which  I  wrote  at 
the  time  for  the  Boston  Traveler. 

THE  DALTON  DRAMA  AND  KUFUS  CHOATE. — While 
Camille  has  been  playing  at  our  Boston  Theater,  the  Dal- 


478   REMINISCENCES  OF   EUFUS   CHOATE 

ton  drama  has  been  playing  at  our  Boston  Court  House. 
Both  have  been  greeted  with  thronged  houses.  The  lat 
ter,  however,  being  a  sin,  real,  not  painted,  and  a  life-long 
agony,  has  properly  provoked  far  more  attention  and  criti 
cism. 

The  renown  of  the  advocate  of  the  wife's  honor  in  this 
case,  Mr.  Choate,  added  fuel  to  the  fire  of  burning  curi 
osity  ;  and  when,  on  Tuesday,  the  evidence  closed,  the 
public  interest  was  on  tiptoe.  It  has  rarely  happened 
even  to  him  to  rise  in  a  case  upon  which  so  intently,  and 
for  so  long  a  time,  the  public  eye  had  been  riveted.  Day 
after  day,  during  all  the  examination  of  the  witnesses,  the 
court  room  had  been  crowded ;  and  as  each  new  leaf  of 
scandal,  or  shame,  or  falsehood,  was  turned  over,  the  pulses 
of  the  eager  auditors  throbbed  in  unison,  and  the  looks  of 
the  galleries  indicated  that  they  were  ravenous  for  more. 
But  the  audience  was  not  merely  that  Court  room  auditory. 
Every  day  the  great  public  itself,  the  whole  city,  had  looked 
in  on  every  detail  of  the  case,  through  the  open  windows 
of  the  newspapers.  They  had  watched  closely  every  fluc 
tuation  of  the  family  revealings,  and  calculated,  like 
another  but  greater  Jury,  the  weight  and  issue  of  the  tes 
timony.  There  was  a  double  motive  for  this  :  first,  there 
was  the  craving  natural  to  man  for  scandalous  details  ; 
and  then  there  was  the  natural  solicitude  of  grave  men 
and  heads  of  families,  to  know  if  even  New  England,  iron- 
bound  in  Puritanism,  was  relaxing  her  decorum  ;  and  was 
beginning  to  wait  a  little  under  "  the  insidious  light  and 
the  delirious  music  of  houses  of  pleasure,"  as  Choate 
called  it. 

In  the  midst,  then,  of  this  vast  expectancy  ;  in  presence 
of  thousands,  in  presence,  as  it  were,  of  the  assembled  city  ; 
in  presence  of  attentive  New  England,  the  advocate  rose  to 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.          479 

speak  ;  but  wider  even  than  our  section  of  country.,  were 
his  words  to  be  winged  •  for  Mr.  Dana,  in  replying  to  him, 
truly  said,  alluding  to  Coburn  (a  witness  whom  Choate 
denounced),  that  the  victim  who  had  been  smitten  by  the 
bolt  of  Choate's  denunciation  was  lost ;  he  might  go  to 
the  East  or  to  the  West,  in  his  endeavors  to  reform,  but 
that  tremendous  invective  would  always  blacken  before 
him,  and  his  reputation  would  track  him  with  the  fatal 
footsteps  of  Nemesis. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  every  avenue  to 
the  Court  room  was  literally  blockaded  with  people.  While 
the  crowd  within  were  waiting  patiently  for  the  argument 
to  commence,  crammed  so  closely  that  men  almost  stood  on 
each  other,  the  Sheriff  provoked  uproarious  laughter  by 
rising  with  the  gilt  insignia  of  his  Sheriffalty  about  him, 
and  respectfully  announcing,  that  those  gentlemen  who 
were  on  the  second  wing  might  have  "  leave  to  withdraw." 
Considering  that  five  dollars  was  said  to  have  been  offered 
for  a  standing  place,  and  that,  once  in,  no  man  could  get 
out  without  becoming  a  shadow,  this  business-like  intima 
tion  was  certainly  droll. 

When  Judge  Merrick  came  in,  Mr.  Choate  stood  up. 
To  the  apparent  disappointment  of  the  prodigious  expecta 
tion  which  had  reckoned  on  an  immediate  outbreak  of  ora- 
toric  fireworks,  he  commenced  to  read  to  the  Judge,  in  a 
very  quiet  manner,  some  extracts  from  an  old  law  book  ; 
then,  turning  to  the  Jury,  who  sat  as  if  braced  to  receive 
a  series  of  torpedo  shocks,  he  began  in  a  grave  but  quiet 
colloquial  way,  as  if  he  was  only  button-holing  a  man  in 
conversation  in  the  street. 

His  first  day  was  occupied  in  presenting  general  consid 
erations,  tending  to  disarm  hostility  and  propitiate  favor 
for  his  fair  client's  cause,  who  sat  behind  him,  not  exactly 


480          REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

"  like  Niobe,  all  tears" — tears  only  occasionally ;  there 
were  tears  enough,  however,  to  fill  out  the  picture  which 
Mr.  Dana  subsequently  implored  the  Jury  might  not  turn 
out  to  be  the  history  of  the  case — "  a  few  tears,  the  elo 
quent  breath  of  an  orator,  and  all  is  over  for  the  husband/' 
In  this  first  day,  also,  the  advocate  for  the  wife  seemed 
utterly  to  demolish  that  whole  story  which,  most  of  all,  has 
shocked  and  affrighted  the  public  ;  the  story  that  in  a  re 
spectable  family  in  our  midst,  the  crime  of  infanticide  was 
as  common  as  childbirth  •  and  that  time  after  time,  one 
daughter  after  another  of  that  house  was  "  subjected  to 
the  butcher  knife  of  Dr.  Calkins"  or  some  other  male  or 
female  operator.  Finally,  in  this  first  day,  was  presented 
also  the  "  two  great  views"  upon  which  Mr.  Choate  rested 
his  case  ;  first,  that  Mrs.  Dalton  never  really  loved  her 
lover,  but,  though  dizzy  with  the  intoxicating  incense  of 
his  adoration  she  always  really  loved  her  husband ;  and 
second,  that  after  all  the  revelations  which  had  been  made, 
and  upon  which  this  case  rested,  Dalton,  the  husband,  had 
himself  adjudged  her  not  guilty,  by  taking  her  to  his  bosom 
to  live  with  him,  for  several  weeks. 

These  two  views,  thus  suggested,  became  the  key-note 
of  the  whole  argument.  Much  else  of  course  was  said,  the 
mass  of  evidence  was  contemplated  from  many  standpoints  ; 
but  ever  and  anon,  like  the  dominant  air  of  an  opera,  this 
strain  returned  ;  now  the  performer  compressed  it,  now  he 
expanded  and  prolonged  it  with  his  unequaled  witchery  of 
words  ;  and  so  it  rose  and  fell  before  the  minds  of  the  Jury, 
through  the  introduction,  the  argument,  the  appeal — over 
ture,  concertos,  and  all.  From  whatever  angle  he  looked 
at  the  facts,  from  whatever  chords  he  struck  the  tones,  you 
heard  ever  the  same  recurring  strain, — Nellie  still  loved 
him,  Frank  believed  her  guiltless.  Therefore,  of  course, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.    481 

the  inference  would  be  natural,  if  she  still  loved  her  wedded 
husband,  all  the  time  of  the  intimacy  with  Simmer,  it  was 
mere  boy's-play  and  not  guilt  ;  therefore,  also,  if  he,  who 
of  all  men  best  knew  how  to  try  her,  had  at  first  adj  udged 
her  not  criminal,  the  Jury  should  adjudge  her  not  criminal. 

It  was  very  interesting  to  see  the  art  and  the  address 
with  which,  in  every  light,  the  tissues  of  these  two  thoughts 
were  shot  across  the  threadwork  of  the  argument,  .and  to 
hear  with  what  perpetual  variety  the  same  monotonous 
tones  were  rung.  In  speaking  of  the  fond,  trusting  letters 
written  by  the  husband  to  the  wife,  in  the  murderer's  cell, 
he  described  them  as  "One  long  sigh — one  long,  sad  strain 
of  music — that  music,  'Home,  sweet  home,  and  you  its 
destined  idol/  }:  Her  letters  to  him,  in  reply,  he  painted 
as  charged  with  a  deep  pathos  of  affection, — such  as  no 
Confessions  of  Kousseau,  no  Abelard,  no  Heloisa,  could 
throw  into  the  shade. 

The  first  day  having  been  occupied  in  stating  his  own 
case,  in  the  second  day  of  his  argument  he  discussed  the 
adversary's  case. 

It  would  be  in  vain  to  try  to  describe  how  he  explained 
away  the  damning  letters  from  "  Nellie"  to  Simmer  ;  two 
of  which  had  been  preserved  and  proved.  "  I  must  read 
them  to  the  jury,"  he  said — "7,  who  am  fallen  into  the 
sere  and  yellow  leaf ;  when  they  should  better  be  read  by 
my  curled  and  handsome  friends,  the  other  counsel  in  the 
case." 

In  accounting  for  John  H.  Cobum's  seeming  hostility 
to  Mr.  Grove,  the  father  of  Mrs.  Dalton,  will  anybody  who 
was  present  ever  forget,  with  what  a  manner  he  intimated 
that  Ooburn  was  trying  to  make  something  out  of  him  ; 
— either  money,  or,  as  Grove  was  a  clothing  merchant,  even 
a  suit  of  clothes.  "  Why,"  said  the  witty  advocate,  with 

.21 


482      REMINISCENCES    OF     KUFUS    CHOATE. 

a  humor  worthy  of  Curran,  "  Coburn  said  to  himself,  *  I 
see  pantaloons  in  the  distance/  r 

His  defense  of  some  imprudent  conduct  into  which  Mr. 
Gove  seemed  to  have  been  led  by  his  feelings,  and  which 
bore  the  semblance  of  tampering  with  a  juryman,  was  ad 
mirable.  He  pictured  him  as  haunted  day  and  night  with 
this  case,  and  the  fate  of  this  daughter.  "  In  his  dreams 
it  shadows  his  pillow — dreams,  did  I  say  ?  he  sleeps  not, 
save  under  the  anodyne  draught ;  and  is  it  passing  strange 
that  his  agony  of  solicitude  should  unman  him — that  the 
father  should  conquer  the  citizen  ?" 

It  was  very  essential  to  his  case  that  the  gulf  which 
yawns  between  "  imprudence"  and  adultery,  should  gape  as 
wide  as  possible  ;  and  he  stretched  it,  till  one  might  almost 
think  the  imprudent  woman  wandering  upon  its  margin 
"  by  the  insidious  light,"  was  less  likely  than  the  prudent 
one,  who  walked  afar  off.,  to  fall  into  the  abyss.  Of  the 
imprudent  flirt,  we  speak,  he  said,  in  terms  of  disapproba 
tion  ;  of  the  adulteress,  we  sing,  if  we  say  any  thing,  "  Oh 
no,  we  never  mention  her  !"  And  her  presence  in  our 
houses  is  hardly  less  astounding,  than  the  sight  of  a  goblin 
damned. 

Perhaps  the  funniest  passage  in  the  whole  was  where 
he  showed  how  Coburn,  apprehensive  of  cross-examination 
in  Court,  got  the  erysipelas  in  his  feet ;  and  thereupon  (al 
luding  to  the  taking  of  his  deposition,  which  contradicted 
his  testimony  afterwards  given)  "  We  sent  Drs.  Durant 
and  Dana  to  him  ;  they  cured  the  patient., — but  they  killed, 
the  witness."  (Mr.  Durant  and  Mr.  Dana  were  the  other 
lawyers  in  the  case.) 

Take  this  argument  of  Mr.  Choate  as  a  whole,  it  is  to 
be  considered  a  great  intellectual  effort.  It  was  more 
severely  intellectual  and  logical,  even,  than  it  was  orna- 


K  EM  INISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     CHOATE.     483 

mental  and  passionate.  Throughout  the  whole  it  will  be 
difficult  to  find  any  passage  of  description,  invective,  or 
pathos,  that  does  not  tend  directly  to,  and  help  on,  the 
main  current  of  the  argument.  It  does  not  contain  any 
single  passages  of  such  memorable  beauty  as  Erskine's  In 
dian,  in  the  Stockdale  libel  case ;  nor  such  as  the  same 
advocate  gave  in  the  case  of  Howard  vs.  Bingham  ;  that 
famous  case  in  which,  though  appearing  for  the  defend 
ant,  the  alleged  seducer,  he  continued  to  represent  him 
as  the  party  sinned  against  ;  as  defrauded  by  the  husband 
of  a  love  which  he  had  cherished  for  the  lady,  for  years  be 
fore  the  husband  saw  her.  But  it  must  be  remembered, 
that,  in  this  Dalton  case,  the  advocate  had  circumstances 
against  him  ;  and  that  the  array  of  the  higher  thoughts  by 
which  alone  noble  rhetorical  flights  must  mount,  was  barred 
from  him.  This  argument  has,  however,  full  as  much  sus 
tained  rhetorical  and  more  logical  power  than  Curran's 
argument  in  the  great  case  of  seduction,  Massey  vs.  the 
Marquis  of  Headforcl ;  in  which  the  husband  recovered 
$50,000. 

Those  good  people  who  imagine  that,  because  they  have 
listened  to  Mr.  Choate,  in  the  delivery  of  a  lecture,  they 
have  heard  Choate,  the  orator-advocate,  would  have  con 
fessed  their  blunder  had  they  been  in  Court  on  this  occasion. 
To  see  our  great  advocate  in  one  of  these  displays  is  a 
theatric  spectacle.  When  Pinkney  spoke,  all  the  belles  of 
the  city  went  to  Court,  said  Judge  Story  to  the  Law 
School  ;  and  when  our  Pinkney  speaks,  every  mortal  gets 
into  Court  who  can.  Then  to  follow  him  in  his  varying 
appeals  to  every  vulnerable  point  of  the  Jury's  human 
nature — the  mighty  stream  of  his  unbroken  volubility, — his 
black  eye  burning  blacker  than  night — now  turning  to  the 
Judge,  now  brandishing  his  arm  over  the  head  of  the  op- 


484  REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

posite  counsel — now  marching  up  to  and  confronting  the 
"  twelve  men,"  and  now  lifting  his  glance  as  if  obtesting 
Heaven — take  it  all  in  all,  we  may  well  exclaim,  as  the 
Portuguese  rhapsoclist  comically  said,  astonished  out  of 
himself  at  the  surpassing  beauty  of  the  Azores — "  Oh  for 
a  portrait  painter,  to  paint  the  scene — terrestrial  and  celes 
tial." 

In  this  case  Mr.  Choate  succeeded,  for  the  Jury  did  not 
divorce  the  parties.  And  it  is  understood  that  they  are 
now  living  happily  together  in  a  distant  State. 

TILTON   VS.  TREMONT   MUTUAL   INSURANCE   COMPANY. 

Mr.  Choate  was  senior  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  in  this 
case.  He  spoke  nearly  four  hours,  in  an  unusual  strain  of 
logic  and  reasoning.  Chief  Justice  Shaw  twice  told  him 
he  must  be  brief ;  and  at  last  stopped  him.  The  baffled 
reasoner  declared  he  left  the  case  with  the  Jury  "unfinished 
and  incomplete,"  to  use  his  words.  He  indulged  very  little 
in  rhetoric,  and  the  following  instances  which  he  used  very 
happily,  a  friend  who  was  present,  took  clown  : 

"  The  Captain  of  the  ship  feeling  himself  upon  the  back 
of  so  noble  an  animal  put  in  the  spurs  and  gave  her  the 
reins."  This  was  in  allusion  to  the  "  clipper  ship,"  which 
he  alleged,  as  plaintiff,  had  been  strained  and  injured  by 
the  perils  of  the  sea  and  the  ardor  of  the  young  Master  in 
making  a  quick  voyage. 

Again,  in  allusion  to  the  damaged  appearance  of  the 
ship  at  Kio  Janeiro,  where  she  was  repaired,  he  asked  in  a 
terrific  tone,  "  If  a  strong  man  goes  forth  upon  a  journey, 
and  at  the  end  is  found  bleeding, — what  may  we  ask  was 
the  cause  ?  Is  it  not  clear  that  something  overtook  him 
on  his  way  ?" 


REMINISCENCES     OF     HUFUS     CHOATE.          485 

He  quoted  from  "  Macbeth/'  where  he  "  calls  up  the 
master  and  servants/'  and  applied  it  to  the  defendants. 

In  speaking  of  the  sailors,  in  respect  to  whom  the  de 
fendants'  counsel  made  a  taunt,  because  he  did  not  produce 
them  on  the  witness  stand,  he  said,  "  Must  we  chase  the 
eagle  to  his  eyrie  ? — these  sailors  who  have  flown  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  !" 

In  following  him,  Governor  Clifford,  who  was  the  op 
posite  counsel,  commenced  by  saying,  "  I  will  not  attempt 
to  measure  his  (Mr.  Choate's)  power,  any  more  than  I 
would  measure  the  power  of  the  sea  itself,  which  lie  will 
tell  you  is  immeasurable." 


SHAW  VS.  WORCESTER   RAILROAD 

May  7,  1858. — Yesterday  (one  year  before  he  was  to 
die),  Choate  argued  Shaw  vs.  Worcester  Railroad,  in  a 
manner  worthy  his  palmiest  days.  I  noted  down  extracts. 

Speaking  of  the  railroad  station  house,  he  said,  "  There 
was  no  baggage-man  there,  no  station-man  there,  no  friendly 
flag-man  there  ; — for  three  quarters  of  an  hour  it  was  as 
lonely  as  the  desert  behind  Algiers." 

I  was  struck,  for  the  thousandth  time,  with  the  intel 
lectual  change  his  appearance  undergoes  in  the  tempest  and 
shock  of  his  speaking ;  his  brow  lifts,  swells,  expands, 
tightens,  and  grows  whiter  with  the  crowding  and  tension 
of  his  thoughts. 

Once,  when  he  was  interrupted  in  making  an  acute 
point  to  the  jury  by  the  adverse  counsel,  he  paused  a  mo 
ment  as  if  to  hear  the  interruption  and  parry  it ;  and  as 
he  did  so,  stooping  his  head  toward  the  rail  before  the  jury 
on  which  his  hand  rested,  and  turning  his  dark  eyes  toward 


486      REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS     CHOATE. 

the  interruption,  his  look  was  such  as  to  remind  one  viv 
idly  of  Booth's  Richard  III. 

As  illustrating  the  spell  with  which  his  thought  pos 
sesses  him,  and  his  hearers  also,  I  noticed  this  ;  he  paused 
before  an  emphatic  sentence  he  was  about  to  utter,  and 
atually  clapped  his  hands  three  times,  in  the  same  rate 
of  time  as  that  in  which  he  had  been  speaking ;  and  yet 
nobody  laughed,  and  the  sentence  was  made  only  more 
effective. 

Once  in  the  course  of  his  speech  he  turned  round,  and 
happened  to  fix  his  glaring  eyes  on  an  auditor,  connected 
with  the  railroad,  so  fiercely  and  concentratedly  and  almost 
demoniacally, — he  seemed  to  strike  at  the  poor  man  with 
each  sentence. 

In  the  course  of  his  argument,  he  said,  "  Gentlemen  of 
the  jury  you  are  bound  to  try  the  right  of  this  plaintiff  by 
the  head,  and  feel  the  injury  in  the  heart.  He  (the  injured 
man,  whose  widow  sued)  has  gone  to  his  account.  After 
life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well — there  let  him  rest.  He 
was  a  husband  worth  keeping  alive,  or  killing  on  a  railroad. 

We  want  justice  ;  not  the  ten  thousandth  part  of  a 
farthing  from  pity  ;  not  feeling,  but  the  coldest  justice. 

On  came  the  terrible  glare  of  that  engine — that  fire  of 
hell !  There  was  no  curving  board  of  warning  to  him  who 
would  cross  that  track.  There  was  no  proud  Arch  to  bid  him 
stay — no  friendly  flag-man.  They  blew  no  whistle — that 
would  have  startled  all  but  the  dead  ;  then  comes  the  col 
lision — the  wagon  and  the  engine ;  and  it  is  not  the  giant 
that  dies,  but  the  weak. 


REMINISCENCES  OP  RUFUS  CHOATE.    487 

From  that  moment,  this  Branch  Kailroad  has  been  to 
the  main  Railroad,  an  ivy  that  has  fed  upon  a  princely 
trunk,  and  sucked  the  verdure  out  of  it. 

Is  this  a  talc  to  be  told  on  a  winter's  evening  ?  The 
grave  tells  no  tales. 

My  friend  (the  adverse  counsel)  whose  courage  no  more 
than  his  ingenuity  fails  him  in  a  bad  case,  thinks  he  has  a 
witness,  and  a  theory.  Better  had  that  witness  slept  in 
an  early  grave,  with  the  engineer,  than  upon  that  stand 
morally  and  judicially  TO  HAVE  LIED. 

This  case  was  tried  several  times  ;  the  Court  every 
time  setting  aside  the  verdict,  or  allowing  Exceptions. 
Each  time  the  jury  gave  higher  damages  ;  finally  it  was 
tried  for  plaintiff  by  Henry  Durant,  Esq.  The  jury  gave 
over  twenty  thousand  dollars  damages,  and  it  ivas  paid. 


With  this  last  case,  the  author  closes  this  Chapter  of 
his  work.  Although  he  has  in  his  possession  great  num 
bers  of  Mr.  Choate's  Speeches,  he  does  not  insert  even  the 
most  brilliant  extracts  from  them,  which  he  himself  heard; 
preferring  to  leave  that  field  of  the  great  orator's  reported 
Speeches,  entirely  untouched,  to  his  family  ;  from  whom  his 
formal  Biography  and  Works  are  expected. 

These  Forensic  Arguments,  however,  which  make  up 
this  chapter,  the  author  has  here  given  somewhat  fully  ; 
because  most  of  them  exist  nowhere  but  in  his  own  MSS. 
or  MSS.  given  to  him  by  friends  ;  and  unless  here  pub 
lished,  the)7  would  probably  soon  perish  even  from  the 
traditions  of  Court  street. 

It  must  be  remembered,   however,   by   the  reader,  in 


488   REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

estimating  them,  that  these  passages  are  after  all  only  Ex 
tracts  :  as  the  size  of  the  book  precluded  the  publication 
of  the  arguments  in  full.  And  also,  allowance  must  be 
made  for  the  absence  of  that  magical  manner,  which  trans 
figured  Mr.  Choate,  in  his  most  rapt  passages,  into  a  posi 
tive  aT)r>arition  of  splendor. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MISCELLANEOUS     REMINISCENCES. 

THE  Lectures  of  Mr.  Choate,  as  might  have  been  ex 
pected,  were  very  brilliant,  erudite  and  fervid.  Every  year 
or  two  he  would  find  time  to  write  one  for  the  Boston 
Mercantile  Library  Association.,  or  some  other  Lyceum  au 
dience.  He  gave  one  in  1856,  on  "  The  Old  Age  of  the  Poet 
Rogers."  Rogers  had  recently  died,  and  the  thoughts  of  the 
world  had  for  a  moment  been  turned  to  him.  Mr.  Choate, 
indeed,  almost  always  took  his  lecture  theme  from  some 
topic  to  which  recent  events  had  given  a  new  and  immedi 
ate  interest. 

I  wrote  at  the  time  the  following  brief  description  of 
this  Lecture,  and  the  manner  of  its  delivery,  for  a  news 
paper  ;  and  it  may  give  the  reader,  now,  some  idea  of  its 
character  and  effect. 

DESCRIPTION   OF   MR.    CHOATE'S   LECTURE    ON    "THE    OLD 
AGE    OF    THE   POET    ROGERS." 

We  wish  to  consider  Mr.  Choate's  Address  after  a  few 
hours  have  intervened  between  the  delivery  and  our  review 
of  it,  lest  the  enthusiasm  of  the  advocate-orator  should  too 
partially  affect  our  judgment.  And  yet,  upon  some  little 
reflection,  and  in  a  cooler  mood  than  that  in  which  he  left 
us  when  he  closed,  we  find  it  difficult  to  disembarrass  our 
selves  of  a  sympathetic  excitement,  the  moment  we  fairly 
attack  the  subject.  He  is  so  far  beyond  all  our  other  ora 
tors  in  passionate  and  inspiring  fervor,  he  so  lifts  us  to 


490     REMINISCENCES     OF     EUFUS     C  H  O  A  T  F. . 

commanding  elevations  of  sublimity,  and  he  contrives  to 
engage  the  sympathies  and  almost  the  affections  (certainly 
the  whole  emotional  part  of  one's  nature)  to  such  a  degree, 
that  every  one  who  writes  of  him  must  write  either  as  a 
frigid  foe  or  a  warm,  sympathetic,  and  favoring  friend. 
The  lecture  which  he  has  just  delivered  before  four  thou 
sand  people,  crowded — yes,  consolidated  together — three 
thousand  of  whom  only  could  gain  a  seat,  yet  which  held 
their  rapt  attention  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  so  that  eyes 
were  riveted  as  by  magnetic  polarity  upon  him,  breath  al 
most  suspended  to  catch  his  faintest  accent,  and  the  whole 
vast,  solid  mass,  as  still  as  death  all  the  time,  one  or  two 
fainting  women  being  carried  out  without  in  the  least  dis 
tracting  their  fixed  and  fascinated  gaze  ;  and  at  the  close 
no  one,  we  venture  to  say,  feeling  otherwise  than  anxious 
to  hear  that  voice  still  longer,  as  it  pealed  over  the  multi 
tude,  trumpet-like,  in  its  clear,  ringing,  and  rousing  tones 
of  emphasis,  or  sunk  in  a  measured  cadence  which  even  the 
studied  declaimer  might  have  envied,  save  that  it  sank  too 
low — the  Address  which  accomplished  this,  must  be  deserv 
ing  of  more  critical  scrutiny  and  praise  than  is  rendered  by 
simply  saying,  "  Oh,  it  was  Eufus  Choate,  with  a  great 
reputation,  and  therefore  they  attended/' 

We  think  great  crowds  may  be  attracted  to  a  hall  by  a 
great  reputation,  but  unless  the  celebrated  person  who  is 
the  magnet  possesses  some  charm  of  oratory,  their  attention 
will,  after  a  little  while,  become  listless,  and  their  attend 
ance  discontinued  ;  in  other  words,  they  will  go  out,,  to 
'the  consternation  of  the  speaker.  When  Cassius  M.  Clay 
lectured  here,  on  "  Beauty,"  there  was  a  throng;  but  they 
soon  dwindled  away  under  his  somnolent  violence  of  inter 
rupted  energy  and  sing-song  superficiality  of  thought.  But 
as  we  cast  our  eye  over  the  thousands  before  Mr.  Choate, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  EUFUS  CHOATE.    491 

we  saw  them  all  looking  like  a  congregation  of  statues, 
spell-bound. 

The  gorgeousness  of  his  imagery,  and  its  wonderful 
profusion,  we  think,  somewhat  masked  and  garlanded  the 
frame-work  of  the  thought ;  and  to  that,  and  not  to  a  pov 
erty  of  thought,  or  confusion  of  point,  is  to  be  attributed 
any  want  of  an  exact  final  impression  of  the  leading  ideas, 
of  which  some  may  possibly  have  been  conscious. 

Stripped  of  its  ornamental  glories,  the  abstract  of  his 
lecture,  would  be  in  the  first  place  a  very  becoming  dep 
recation   of  any  comparison   between  his  effort  and  the 
great  "  occasional"  display  of  Mr.  Everett,  "  conducting  us 
through  sounding  galleries  to  Washington,  upon  the  seat  of 
gold  ;"  (the  famous  Washington  Address.)   Then  he  opened 
an  appropriate  and  learned  consideration  of  the  various 
kinds  of  the  Old  Age  of  genius  ;  the  philosophic,  the  learned, 
the  practical,  the  poetical ;  and — last  of  all — the  peculiarly 
felicitous  and  poetical  evening  of  Kogers'  old  age,  closing 
amid  delightful  memories  and  still  more  delightful  friend 
ships,  and  surrounded  by  every  thing  that  was  graceful  and 
ornamental  in  art  or  letters  ;  an  old  age  when  a  stream — 
full  and  gentle — of  wise  thoughts,  exquisite  emotions,  and 
images  of  amaranthine  bloom,  lighted  by  the  immortal 
flame  of  beauty,  flowed  on  for  ever  beneath  the  arches  of 
his  mind.     From  this,  he  passed  easily  to  consider,  with  a 
few  vivid  touches  which  summoned  them  right  up  in  bold 
relief,  the  radiant  circle  of  poets  of  whom  Kogers  was  not 
the  least.    He  pictured  the  agitations  and  delights  of  mind 
with  which  their  dawning  was  witnessed  ;  how  upon  the 
arrival  of  a  "  Fourth  Canto  of  Childe  Harold,"  or  a  "  Co- 
rinna"  of  De  Stael,  expectation  and  ecstacy  were  succes 
sively  on  tip-toe  ;  and  all  those  ecstacies  of  the  readers  of 
that  race  of  genius,  he  boldly  announced  himself  the  de- 


492    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

fender  of.  "I  come  to  say/'  said  lie,  "  that  that  ardor  of 
delight  with  which  we  packed  them  on  our  little  book 
shelves  in  college,  or  enthroned  them  in  lordly  libraries  was 
all  due,  and  not  in  the  least  extravagant." 

Then  very  justly,  he  drew  the  age  in  its  leading  charac 
teristics,  in  which  and  by  which  they  were  nurtured — the 
thunder  and  lightning  of  the  hour  of  the  Revolution  of 
France,  which  charged  them  with  all  its  electricity  ;  that 
hour  when,  in  the  earthquake  voices  of  her  victories,  France 
looked  down  from  her  house-tops  on  the  desecration  of 
altars  and  the  marvelous  march  of  the  little  Lieutenant  of 
Corsica.  How  much  such  an  age  as  this,  filled  with  revo 
lutions  in  speculative  and  practical  matters,  must  have 
influenced  those  impressible  children  of  genius,  he  briefly 
but  pointedly  indicated.  Who,  of  them  all,  was  the  best 
and  brightest,  he  found  it  impossible  to  tell,  as  each  gained 
peculiar  prominence  at  the  moment  of  its  perusal,  but  his 
own  mind  ran  to  Scott,  as  the  foremost  claimant  of  the 
laurel ;  and  now  followed  a  triumphant  and  passionate 
defense  of  Scott  from  the  sentimentalizing  depreciation  of 
Carlyle.  And  here  it  was,  the  advocate  habit  broke  out ; 
for  no  sooner  did  Mr.  Choate  find  himself  assailing  even  a 
shadowy  foe;  than  his  eye  began  to  blaze  brighter,  and  his 
tones  to  swell  and  thunder  ;  and  when,  in  a  grand,  rising 
climax,  he  pictured  Scott's  heroes  as  inspiring  heroism  by 
the  divine  awakening  influence  of  a  nobility  of  martyrdom, 
to  which  the  sleep  and  death-march  of  Leonidas  and  his 
Spartans  was  "  a  revel  and  a  dance  to  the  Dorian  mood  of 
soft  recorders,"  we  do  not  believe  but  what  the  dense  mass 
of  mind  and  matter  before  him  would  have  risen  up  unani 
mously,  and  voted  him  the  eminent  laurel  of  eloquence ;  as 
he  had  just  before  appropriated  to  Walter  Scott  the  laurels 
of  literature  by  a  "  two-thirds  vote  of  all  who  speak  the 


REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     C  HO  ATE.  493 

English  tongue."  We  have  heard  great  bursts  of  elo 
quence  and  impassioned  cadences,  but  we  doubt  if  we  were 
ever  affected,  for  a  moment,  more  sensibly  than  then.  It 
was  literally  almost  as  if  a  vast  wave  of  the  united  feeling 
of  the  whole  multitude  surged  up  under  everyone's  arm-pits. 

The  poets  thus  brilliant,  thus  begotten,  and  thus  led, 
he  now  left  for  a  momentary  but  apt  allusion  to  the  tro 
phies  of  our  own  country  in  historical  and  poetical  fields ; 
and  paid  a  final  tribute  to  the  poets  whom  he  best  loved 
on  this  side  of  the  water,  by  setting  the  names  of  Dana, 
Bryant,  and  "  Hiawatha,"  in  a  closing  constellation  of 
serene  radiance. 

Now,  the  hastiest  reader,  we  think,  will  see  here  a  germ 
of  thought  symmetrically  developed.  The  poet  Rogers, 
his  "  set,"  their  education,  our  choice  among  them  ;  and, 
lastly,  American  Bards  not  forgotten. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  about  it  was,  after  all,  that 
a  man  of  most  absorbing  professional  cares  and  occupations 
should  show  himself  so  thoroughly  "  posted  up"  in  all 
poetical  themes,  names,  such  histories,  and  criticisms,  and 
be  able  to  blend  them  all,  amid  pressing,  immediate  pro 
fessional  calls,  into  such  a  gorgeous  day-dream  of  beautiful 
thought.  It  is  comparatively  easy  for  a  man  of  leisure, 
taste  and  meansj  with  a  noble  library  at  command,  to 
digest  a  discourse  which  shall  glitter  with  gems,  and  to 
deliver  it  with  an  art  which  shall  baffle  criticism  ;  but  for 
a  man  who  has  to  fight  a  battle  in  Courts  every  day,  and 
who  has  thousands  of  dollars  and  hundreds  of  clients  hang 
ing  on  every  step  he  takes — for  him  to  give  a  Discourse, 
which  by  description,  by  quotation,  by  allusion,  by  criti 
cism,  by  single  words  snatched  from  choice  sentiments  and 
immortal  sentences,  by  biographical  and  historical  refer 
ences — by  all  the  indicia  possible,  shows  that,  he  has  the 


494          REMINISCENCES    OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

instant  mastery  of  a  whole  world  of  topic  and  thought, 
which  alone  might  be  the  all-sufficient  province  of  a  great 
intelligence — this  to  us  was  something  like  a  marvel. 

Some  one  said  of  Gibbon,  that  he  was  great,  but  that 
he  might  have  been  made  out  of  a  corner  of  the  mind  of 
Edmund  Burke  ;  so  we  say  of  any  oratorical  rival  who 
may  be  suggested  to  this  Prince  of  the  Forum  ;  who  real 
izes  in  his  own  person  the  famous  definition  of  Cicero — that 
an  Orator  should  be  one  universally  learned,  and  able  to 
master  the  special  hero  of  every  branch,  in  his  own  speciality. 

But  quite  as  much,  we  wonder  at  that  power  which 
could  thus  go  back  over  and  apparently  revive  every  thing 
imaginative  he  had  ever  read  ;  bring  up  the  thoughts  and 
associations  kindred  and  apt  thereto  ;  and  by  such  power 
of  rapid  description,  by  a  single  sentence  sometimes,  by  a 
few  suggestive  words,  or  by  one  or  two  apt  quotations, 
phrases  or  paragraphs,  all  melting  fluently  into  each  other, 
flash  the  whole  in  all  its  successive  divisions  of  beauty 
upon  the  mind.  Thus,  for  a  single  example,  the  whole 
German  school  of  poetry  and  metaphysical  sublimity  and 
subtlety,  reading  "  the  riddle  of  the  Universe,"  he  daguer- 
reotyped  to  an  attentive  mind  in  ten  compact  sentences. 
And,  speaking  generally,  wre  will  say,  we  never  before  heard 
such  worlds  of  reading  "  touched  off"  in  such  a  grand  con 
flagration — a  conflagration  in  which  so  many  structures 
were  clearly  outlined,  and  all  together  made  such  a 
rhetorical  blaze. 


MR.    CHOATE   VS.    NEW    YORK    TRIBUNE. 

In  1857,  Mr.  Choate  delivered  a  lecture  before  the 
Boston  Mercantile  Library  Association,  on  "  Kevolution- 
ary  Eloquence/'  It  was  in  matter  by  far  the  most  bril- 


KEMINISCENCES     OF     BUFUS    CHOATE.      495 

liant  platform  Address  I  ever  heard  from  him.  His  heart 
was  in  it  ;  for  Cicero,  his  favorite  theme,  was  a  chief  sub 
ject  of  its  panegyric. 

A  few  days  after  its  delivery,  the  New-York  Tribune 
attacked  its  positions,  and  denied  the  correctness  of  its 
reasoning,  especially  in  regard  to  Cicero. 

Mr.  Choate  took  the  matter  up,  exactly  as  if  a  warm 
personal  friend  of  his  own  had  been  assailed.  He  asked 
me  to  reply  to  the  New  York  writer  in  one  of  our  Boston 
papers.  I  did  so,  writing  two  or  three  articles  ;  which 
elicited  another  from  the  same  source,  reaffirming  the  hos 
tile  argument.  Much  of  the  thought,  and  the  main  line 
of  argumentation  in  these  articles,  it  is  not  inappropriate 
now  to  say,  were  furnished  me  by  him.  They  are  to  be 
found,  by  any  one  who  should  feel  disposed  to  see  Mr. 
Choate's  defense  of  Cicero,  in  successive  numbers  of  the 
Boston  Traveller,  of  March,  1857. 

The  language  and  arrangement  only,  were  not  his  ; 
most  of  the  thinking  was.  They  were  published  as  edito 
rial  matter,  and  I  regret  not  having  room  to  insert  them  here. 

It  was  very  interesting  to  observe,  while  this  subject 
was  in  discussion,  how  absorbed  Mr.  Choate  was  in  it. 
He  sent  for  me  nearly  every  morning  with  some  new  idea 
or  suggestion  to  be  presented,  and  rummaged  over  half  his 
library  for  facts  confirmatory  of  his  views.  He  spoke  of 
Cicero  with  the  same  sort  of  personal  fondness  as  he  would 
have  spoken  of  Webster,  had  he  been  preparing  to  defend 
him  from  disparagement. 

KOSSUTH'S  ELOQUENCE. 

Mr.  Choate  was  powerfully  impressed  with  the  power 
and  fascination  of  the  oratory  of  the  Magyar.  His  descrip- 


496          KEMINISCENCES     OF    EUFUS     C  HO  ATE. 

tion  of  that  eloquence  was  solemn  with  all  the  mystical  sub 
limity  of  the  lands  of  the  Orient.  He  says  :  "  Once  again, 
since  the  Prophet  foretold  the  destruction  of  the  people  and 
the  coming  in  of  the  Assyrian,  in  tones  every  note  of  the 
strain  sadder  than  before,  we  have  listened  to  an  eloquence 
—the  sweetest  the  most  mighty,  the  most  mournful  that 
man  can  ever  utter  or  can  ever  hear — the  Eloquence  of  an 
expiring  Nation  !  How,  after  this,  can  we  be  quite  sure, 
that  the  harp  of  Orpheus  did  not  awake  inanimate  nature 
to  a  transient  discourse  of  reason,  and  did  not  for  one  mo 
ment  call  back  Eurydice,  from  the  lower  to  the  upper  and 
the  sweeter  air  ?" 


I  remember  a  case  in  which  he  had  occasion  to  depreci 
ate  the  testimony  of  a  witness,  as  colored  essentially  by  his 
feelings.  "  This  man's  memory  is  playing  with  him,"  he 
said.  "  He  thinks  he  is  remembering  •  when  he  is  only  an 
swering  according  to  his  passionate  feelings.  His  memory, 
spell-bound  by  his  feeling,  summons  to  his  too  ready  tongue 
successive  incidents.  Like  the  strange  Woman  of  Endor,  it 
stands  before  the  eyes  of  his  eager  imagination,  and  seems 
to  say  to  him, — What  will  you  have  now  ?  What  narra 
tive  ?  what  picture  ?  what  phraseology  ?  what  ghost  or 
spirit  or  thought  shall  I  call  up  to  memory  ?" 


In  a  railroad  case,  where  a  wagon  was  run  down,  Mr. 
Choate  said  :  "  There  was  no  forward  motion.  The  horse 
stood  stock  still ;  still  as  marble  ;  a  stone  statue."  This 
was  a  simple  description,  but  I  shall  never  forget  the  tre 
mendous  emphasis,  with  which  he  uttered  these  few  words. 
His  face  was  deadly  pale ;  and  the  utterance  smote  the  ear 
like  a  succession  of  sharp  claps  of  thunder. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  497 

i  1*4^3 

DESCRIPTION   OF    HIS   POLITICAL    SPEECHES. 

His  opening  words  in  political  speeches  were  often  very 
effective. 

I  remember  one  in  Faneuil  Hall,  when  the  old  Cradle 
of  Liberty  was  rocking  with  its  thronging  crowds.  As  the 
deafening  cheers  which  greeted  him  subsided,  the  people 
heard  his  voice  pealing  out,  "  Once  more  unto  the  breach, 
dear  friends,  once  more  \" 

And  again,  under  similar  circumstances,  he  commenced  : 
"  I  am  sick,  fellow-citizens  ;  unable  to  stand  here,  unable 
to  be  here  ;  but  I  could  not  have  lain  still  upon  my  bed 
if  I  had  not  risen  at  your  summons,  to  come  down  here, 
and  at  least  say — Amen,  when  you  said,  '  God  bless  Gen 
eral  Zachary  Taylor/" 

I  think  it  was  in  the  same  Speech  that  he  drew  a  most 
vivid  picture  of  the  huge  audience  before  him, — "  the  beauty 
and  the  bravery  of  Boston,  the  solid  men  and  the  active 
men,  business,  commerce,  wealth,  thought,  all  represented ; 
and,  before  me  now,  rising  rank  on  rank  to  the  skies/' 

The  most  brilliant  political  speeches  I  ever  heard,  were 
those  which  Mr.  Choate  made  in  the  campaign  which  re 
sulted  in  electing  General  Taylor  to  the  Presidency.  For 
the  reason  stated  in  the  Preface,  I  do  not  insert  any  of 
them  here  ;  but  there  was  a  single  passage  in  one  of  them, 
of  signal  beauty  and  originality,  which  is  worthy  a  sepa 
rate  preservation. 

The  ladies  of  Salem  gave  a  Union  banner  to  the  Whig 
club  of  Salem,  old  Essex  county,  Mr.  Choate's  birth-place. 
He  stood  up  to  make  the  presentation  speech  ;  he  spoke 
words  of  rare  felicity. 

"I  give  you,  from  the  ladies  of  this  Salem — the  holy 


498  REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    C  PI  0  A  T  E  . 

and  beautiful  city  of  Peace — a  Banner  of  Peace  !  Peace 
has  her  victories,  however,  as  well  as  war.  I  give  you 
then,  I  hope  and  believe,  the  Banner  of  a  victory  of  Peace. 
The  work  of  hands — some  of  which  you  doubtless  have 
given  away  in  marriage  at  the  altar — the  work  of  hands 
for  which  many  altars  might  contend  !  some  of  which 
have  woven  the  more  immortal  web  of  thought  arid 
recorded  speech,  making  the  mind  of  Salem  as  renowned 
as  its  beauty — the  work  of  such  hands — embodying  their 
general  and  warm  appreciation  of  your  exertions,  and  their 
joy  in  your  prospects  ;  conveying  at  once  the  assurance  of 
triumph  and  the  consolations  of  possible  defeat — expressive 
above  all  of  their  pure  and  considered  moral  judgments  on 
the  great  cause  and  the  Good  Man  ! — the  moral  judgments 
of  these,  whose  frown  can  disappoint  the  proudest  aim, 
whose  approbation  prosper  not  less  than  ours — the  work  of 
such  hands,  the  gift  of  such  hearts — the  record  of  such 
moral  sentiments — 'the  symbol  of  so  many  sensibilities  and 
so  many  hopes — you  will  prize  it  more  than  if  woven  of 
the  tints  of  a  summer  evening  sunset,  inscribed  and 
wrought  and  brought  down  to  earth  by  viewless  artists 
of  the  skies. 

We  go  for  the  Union  to  the  last  beat  of  the  pulse,  and 
the  last  drop  of  blood.  We  know  and  feel  that  there — 
there — in  that  endeared  name — beneath  that  charmed  Flag — 
among  those  old  glorious  graves — in  that  ample  and  that 
secure  renown,  that  there  ive  have  garnered  up  our  hearts 
— there  we  must  either  live  or  bear  no  life.  With  our 
sisters  of  the  Kepublic,  less  or  more,  we  would  live,  and 
we  would  die — "  one  hope,  one  lot,  one  life,  one  glory." 

Take  then,  from  their  hands,  this  symbol  of  so  many 
hopes,  and  so  much  good  ;  and  remember  that  on  you,  and 
such  as  you,  it  rests  to  disappoint  or  consummate  them  all. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.          499 


WHAT   WAS    SAID    OF    MR.    CHOATE   THIRTY   YEARS   AGO. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  observe  in  the  hour  of  a  very  great 
man's  culmination,  what  men  said  about  him,  in  the  suc 
cessive  stages  of  his  developement.  I  met,  in  a  newspaper, 
the  following  description  of  "  Young  Kufus  Choate,"  as  he 
seemed  to  a  practiced  observer,  when  he  first  went  to  Congress. 

In  1833,  Honorable  James  Brooks,  now  of  the  New 
York  Express,  wrote  from  Washington  to  the  Portland 
Advertiser,  of  which  paper  he  was  then  editor,  the  an 
nexed  notice  of  Mr.  Choate.  It  was  quite  different  in  tone 
from  the  present  manner  of  speaking  of  him  : 

"  Mr.  Kufus  Choate  is  a  most  promising  young  man 
from  Essex  District,  who  does  not  speak  often,  but  who 
speaks  much  to  the  purpose.  Few  men  in  Congress  com 
mand  more  attention.  He  has  a  well-disciplined,  but, 
perhaps,  not  a  brilliant,  mind  ;  or  if  brilliant,  he  has  not 
suffered  himself  to  strike  out  many  oratorical  sparks  in  the 
debates  in  which  he  has  participated.  He  argues  closely, 
clearly,  and  of  course  forcibly.  He  came  into  Congress  with 
a  high  reputation  preceding  him  ;  not  always  the  most  for 
tunate  recommendation,  for  it  makes  critics  more  critical, 
and  the  public  more  greedy — and  has  thus  far  sustained 
the  expectations  of  the  public,  and  increased  his  own  repu 
tation.  There  is  an  apparent  frankness,  a  sincerity,  and 
sober  earnestness  in  his  manner,  when  he  addresses  the 
House,  which  is  admirably  calculated  to  make  an  impres 
sion,  and  which  does  always  have  an  effect.  Mr.  Choate 
returns  from  the  House  this  session,  to  pursue  his  profession 
of  law,  it  is  said,  where  there  is  but  little  doubt  that  he 
must  soon  be  in  the  head  and  front  rank  at  the  Bar.  Massa 
chusetts  will  lose  much  in  losing  him  from  Congress — for 
the  longer  he  was  there,  the  stronger  he  would  become." 


500       REMINISCENCES     OF    R  U  F  U  S    CHOATE. 


HIS   OPINION   OF   HENRY   CLAY. 

Mr.  Choate  always  admired  Henry  Clay,  both  before 
and  after  their  personal  altercation  in  the  Senate.  He  was 
himself  a  man  too  magnanimous  and  mighty  to  find  his 
estimate  of  rival  greatness  colored  by  personal  spleen. 
How  he  spoke  of  Clay,  after  their  contest,  many  remarks 
in  the  foregoing  Conversations  show  ;  how  he  spoke  of 
Clay,  before  their  contest,  the  following  extract  from  a 
letter,  written  by  him  January  15th,  1832,  shows  ;  Mr. 
Clay  had  just  made  his  opening  speech  on  the  Tariff. 
In  his  own  peculiar  chirography,  and  in  a  few  compact 
phrases,  Mr.  Choate  describes  it,  thus : 

"  I  heard  him  (Mr.  Clay)  deliver  it — his  manner  was 
studiously  cool,  conciliatory,  winning  and  grave — not  rhe 
torical,  nor  vehement — unlike  the  '  Henry  Clay'  of  former 
days — but  better  than  that — sound,  clear,  comprehensive, 
paternal,  statesmanlike." 

HIS   BENEVOLENCE. 

Mr.  Choate  was  a  very  benevolent  and  kind-hearted 
man  ;  no  sufferer,  no  student,  no  charity  was  ever  turned 
away  empty  from  the  doors  of  his  large  and  overflowing 
heart.  I  have  known  him  defend  cases  for  poor  and 
friendless  women  for  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing,  when 
in  the  same  time  he  might  have  been  making  his  fifty  or  a 
hundred  or  more  dollars  a  day.  Quite  recently,  when  the 
Roman  Catholic  Association  procured  his  services  as  a  lec 
turer,  he  filled  their  house  and  their  coffers  ;  but  learning 
that  their  course  of  lectures  was  for  the  benefit  of  destitute 
boys — he  gave  his  glittering  address  a  free  gift  to  them, 
and  would  take  no  fee. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   501 


HIS   ECONOMY   OF   TIME. 

His  husbandry  and  economy  of  his  time  was  most 
minute  and  punctual.  For  many  of  his  studies  and 
exercises,  he  often  could  only  get  five  minutes  a  day  ; 
yet  that  five  minutes  was  appropriated  and  employed 
with  as  much  severity  of  application  as  if  it  had  been 
five  hours. 

HIS   HOME   MEMORIES. 

Once  when  he  was  away  from  home,  trying  a  heavy 
case,  during  the  time  I  knew  him,  he  was  taken  very  sick. 
A  nurse  was  employed.  As  the  fevered  patient  lay  tossing 
on  his  bed,  during  the  long  watches  of  the  weary  night, 
he  suddenly  stopped  his  uneasy  motions,  and  thanked  the 
nurse  for  her  assiduous  care  ;  "  But,"  said  he,  "  I  want 
you  to  take  your  sewing,  and  sit  so  by  the  bed-side  ;  for 
that's  the  way  -I  remember  my  mother  used  to  sit." 

THE    MUSIC    OF    THE    UNION. 

I  have  been  told  by  a  Californian  that  Choate's  politi 
cal  Letter  with  the  famous  phrase,  "  We  carry  the  flag  and 
keep  step  to  the  music  of  the  Union,"  and  the  phrase  itself, 
contributed  more  than  any  other  one  thing  to  secure  the 
electoral  vote  of  California  to  Mr.  Buchanan.  One  half  of 
the  emigration  from  the  old  States  being  from  New  En 
gland  alone,  where  Choate  was  well  known,  and  he  being 
an  old-line  Whig,  they  followed  his  counsel.  His  Letter 
was  sent  broad-cast  to  every  gulch,  cailon,  and  mining 
town  in  California. 


502      REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S     CHOATE. 


CRITICISMS   UPON   MR.    CHOATE. 

I  have  heard  it  suggested  that  this  great  orator-advo 
cate  had  a  vicious  habit  of  memoriter  speaking.  But  this 
is  not  true  ;  he  wrote  the  greater  part  of  his  speeches 
and  arguments,  but  he  never  laboriously  learned  what  he 
wrote.  He  wrote,  to  fix  and  make  certain  his  own  thought. 
Having  written,  it  would  not  much  have  troubled  him  to 
find  his  writing  burned  up. 

I  have  seen  him,  in  the  discussion  of  an  interlocutory 
point,  write  up  to  the  very  instant  of  rising  to  reply  ;  and 
then  make  an  oratorio  argument,  every  word  of  which 
seemed  exact  and  elaborate,  yet  he  had  had  no  chance  to 
commit  any  thing  to  memory. 

Again,  it  has  been  said  that  he  never,  like  Webster, 
rested  his  case  on  its  single  great  points,  but  argued  every 
point,  big  or  little,  bearing  on  the  issue. 

But  he  Tcneio  the  great  points,  where  they  were,  and 
what  they  were.  He  could  rest  on  them.  I  have  heard 
him  do  up  in  an  hour  the  case  of  a  month.  I  have  heard 
him  in  a  great  patent  case,  after  his  adversary  had  argued 
four  days,  say,  "  I  lay  out  of  the  case  three  days  of  this 
argument  as  immaterial ;"  and  then  proceed  to  discuss 
only  the  narrower  issue. 

In  a  Railroad  collision  case,  when  his  adversary  quoted 
law  and  principle  for  hours,  I  have  known  him  take  one 
decision,  abandon  all  else,  and  say  so — then  concentrate 
all  his  energies  on  that ;  and  resting  on  that,  ravaye  his 
enemy's  argument  with  desolating  energy.  But,  he  said  in 
private,  I  have  been  so  often  disappointed  in  the  sudden 
turn  which  jurors'  minds  take,  I  have  proved  them  false  on 
such  trivial  points,  that,  as  I  grow  older,  I  argue  every 
point,  even  at  the  risk  of  tedium. 


REMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.         503 

If  it  be  said  that  Webster  always  rested  on  a  few  broad 
propositions  ;  it  must  be  remembered  that  Webster  did  not 
so  often  argue  hard  cases. 

Some,  noticing  his  careless  attire,  have  thought  him 
slovenly  in  dress  ;  but  he  was  only  careless,  never  slovenly  • 
his  clothes  were  never  dirty,  nor  snuffy  ;  not  ill  made,  but 
made  of  the  best  material,  costly  and  often  renewed.  He 
was  careless,  as  a  greatly  occupied  mind  would  be  ;  as  Bona 
parte  would  be.  His  ideal  was  neat  and  tidy.  He  took 
care  of  minutia.  His  linen  was  always  clean,  even  his 
nails,  that  sure  mark  of  a  gentleman,  were  daily  attended 
to.  His  boots  looked  clumsy,  but  his  feet  were  very  large  ; 
and  his  great  heats  of  body  and  blood  in  speaking,  com 
pelled  him  to  wear  over  them  an  India  rubber  cover,  which 
made  them  even  clumsier. 

He  went  to  his  office  always  through  narrow  lanes, 
straight  as  the  crow  flies,  he  went  ;  but  it  was  to  escape 
interruption,  and  to  avoid  obstruction  he  shunned  thorough 
fares. 

While  it  is  conceded  that  Mr.  Choate  was  unrivaled  as 
an  advocate,  and  in  all  those  accomplishments  and  acqui 
sitions  which  are  necessary  for  the  successful  management 
of  a  cause  ;  there  have  been  attempts  to  criticise  his  style 
of  argument  and  mode  of  managing  a  case.  To  me  it  al 
ways  seemed  that,  in  his  style  of  procedure,  he  was  beyond 
and  above  description  or  criticism.  He  had  no  prototype  ; 
and  any  imitation  would  be  only  a  travestie.  He  was  his 
own  original ;  and  when  you  say  that  his  oratory  was  too 
impassioned  and  too  studied,  "  with  too  little  of  the  simple, 
colloquial  talk  to  the  jury,"  you  are  only  repeating  a  tru 
ism,  and  saying  that  all  this  was  Choate.  Whether  his 
addresses  to  the  jury  were  simple  or  studied,  the  panel  un 
derstood  them  ;  and  the  iradmiration  was  shared  by  Court, 


504        REMINISCENCES     OF     R  U  F  U  S    CHOATE. 

Bar,  and  spectators.  One  great  peculiarity  of  this  man's 
oratory  was,  that  he  equally  affected  the  plain  twelve  men 
of  the  Jury — the  learned  Bench — old  gray-haired  attorneys 
— elegant  scholars — cold  and  passionless  officials — inge 
nuous  students  of  Law — grave  divines — and  that  motley 
collection  of  listeners  in  the  gallery  and  outside  of  the 
bar,  who  may  be  considered  to  constitute  the  people. 

In  an  age  of  Law  Keform,  it  has  been  said  he  took  no 
part  in  its  reformation.  He  did  take  a  part.  It  was  the 
part  of  wisdom.  In  the  Massachusetts  Constitutional 
Convention  he  opposed  with  great  power  and  effect  the 
making  of  Judges,  elective.  He  argued  this  in  private  and 
in  public  ;  he  told  the  hostile  body  that  if  they  would 
only  spare  the  judges,  he  would  be  silent  under  all  else  they 
might  do.  He  reasoned,  implored,  oratorized  on  this  ;  the 
integrity  and  the  impartiality  of  the  Judicial  magistrate  ; 
and  he,  more  than  any  other  one  man,  contributed  to  pre 
vent  the  insertion  of  this  elective  provision  into  the  new 
Constitution,  and  to  educate  the  public  mind  of  Massa 
chusetts  upon  this  great  and  vital  subject. 


THE   LIKENESS   OF    RUFUS    CHOATE. 

When  the  photograph  Portrait  from  which  the  en 
graving  in  this  volume  is  taken,  first  appeared,  the  fol 
lowing  criticism  upon  Choate  and  it,  was  published  in  a 
New  York  newspaper.  It  adds  two  or  three  verbal  de 
scriptive  touches  to  the  lines  of  the  portrait,  as  we  see  it 
before  us,  in  the  engraving. 

Physically,  Mr.  Choate  is  lank,  hollow-visaged  and  un 
gainly  ;  but  there  is  that,  nevertheless,  in  his  face  which  re 
ports  a  vigorous  and  brilliant  intellect.  Most  artists  would 
be  tempted  to  smooth  over  his  physical  defects,  but  the  sun 
is  impartial,  and  we  have  in  this  picture  the  man  exactly  as 


HEMINISCENCES    OF     RUFUS    CHOATE.  505 

he  is.  The  full  figure  is  seen,  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  with 
his  right  arm  resting  on  a  table,  admirably  expressing  in  its 
whole  position — in  the  loose  hang  of  the  hands  and  the  set 
of  the  garments,  entire  lassitude  and  physical  dejection;  the 
coat  is  fastened  negligently  by  a  single  button,  the  standing 
collar  is  flaring  and  wilted,  and  the  cravat  meets  in  an  in 
describable  knot  that  looks  like  the  fortuitous  .conjunction 
of  original  atoms.  The  almost  coffee-colored  face  is  deeply 
marked  ;  but  in  this,  with  its  luminous  eyes  and  the  back 
ground  of  wild  and  fantastic  hair,  is  found  the  physical 
expression  of  Choate's  fascinating  power. 

As  long  as  men  are  inspired  and  raised  to  higher  levels 
of  motive  and  of  action,  by  noble  thoughts,  by  kindling 
and  liberal  sentiments,  by  the  spectacle  of  a  splendid 
accomplishment  and  unfaltering  toil, — so  long  will  this 
man's  life  tend  to  lift  them  into  a  region  of  impulse  far 
above  the  low  and  poor  springs  of  motive  which  too  often 
rule  mankind. 

He  is  gone  ;  and  to  those  who  saw  him  daily,  the  world 
loses  some  of  its  sunlight.  Never  more  shall  we  see  that 
rich  smile  glittering  across  those  somber  features  ;  those 
deep  eyes,  shining  with  all  the  romance  of  their  sentiment, 
as  the  majesty  of  intellect  lifts  and  widens  that  furrowed 
brow  ;  never  more  behold  that  strong  form  dilating  with 
the  shock  of  his  nervous  energy  ;  and  never  more  shall  we 
hear  that  strange  Eloquence,  in  whose  words,  always  poetic 
and  often  scriptural,  the  passion  of  the  Italian  and  the  fer 
vor  of  the  Hebrew  muse  combined  to  take  captive  the 
imagination  and  the  impulse  of  men. 

Like  William  Pinkney,  this  most  rare  genius  will  soon 
be  but  a  splendid  tradition  ;  for  those  who  only  read  his 
Speeches  will  never  know,  or  even  conjecture,  how  he 
uttered  them. 


CHAPTER    X. 


EVERETT'S  EULOGY. 

ON  the  twenty-third  day  of  July,  1859,  Faneuil  Hall 
was  thrown  open  at  mid-day,  that  the  citizens  of  Boston 
might  assemble  to  think  over  and  mourn  the  death  of  Kufus 
Choate. 

To  give  due  effect  to  the  solemn  occasion,  the  great 
Hall  was  appropriately  arrayed  in  habiliments  of  mourn 
ing.  The  light  of  day  was  excluded,  to  yield  additional 
effect  to  the  somber  colors.  From  the  center  of  the  ceiling 
to  the  capitals  of  the  pillars,  and  along  the  fronts  of  the 
galleries,  winding  up  the  tall  columns,  covering  the  rostrum 
and  the  gilded  work  and  frames  behind  it,  were  festoons 
and  draperies  of  black  alpacca  and  white  bunting  mixed 
and  interranged.  From  the  back  of  the  eagle  in  the  front 
gallery,  lines  of  crape  descended  and  festooned  the  front  of 
the  galleries.  The  Rostrum  was  covered  with  crape,  and 
black  and  white  crape  was  appropriately  disposed  in  the 
rear.  On  the  south  side  of  the  rostrum  was  a  portrait  of 
Choate,  painted  by  Ames.  The  Hall  was  lighted  with  gas, 
and  the  whole  arrangement  was  most  effective  and  appro 
priate. 

Addresses  were  made  by  several  gentlemen  ;  Mr.  Ever 
ett's  address  closed  the  meeting.  It  was  uttered  with 
tones  of  heartfelt  sorrow,  and  gave  full  expression  to  the 
feeling  of  the  citizens.  During  its  delivery,  a  solemn 


REMINISCENCES     OF    RUFUS    CHOATE.      507 

silence  and  stillness  prevailed.  The  audience  seemed  re 
luctant  to  applaud,  lest  it  should  break  harshly  upon  their 
expressions  of  grief.  At  one  passage,  however, — that  de 
scribing  the  sounding  of  the  imperial  clarion — the  people 
were  unable  to  maintain  their  silence  ;  the  noble  energy 
of  its  delivery  so  revived  all  their  recollections  of  the 
dashing  vehemence  of  Mr.  Choate  himself. 

The  Address  is  here  printed.  It  was  kindly  revised  for 
the  author  by  Mr.  Everett  himself. 

ADDRESS   OF    MR.    EVERETT,    REVISED    BY    HIMSELF. 

Mr.  Mayor  and  Fellow  Citizens  :  I  obey  the  only'call 
which  could  with  propriety  have  drawn  me  at  this  time 
from  my  retirement,  in  accepting  your  invitation  to  unite 
with  you  in  the  melancholy  duties  which  we  are  assembled 
to  perform.  While  I  speak,  sir,  the  lifeless  remains  of  our 
dear  departed  friend  are  expected — it  may  be  have  already 
returned  to  his  bereaved  home.  We  sent  him  forth,  but  a 
few  days  since,  in  search  of  health  ;  the  exquisite  bodily 
organization  overtasked  and  shattered,  but  the  master  in 
tellect  still  shining  in  unclouded  strength.  Anxious,  but 
not  desponding,  we  sent  him  forth,  hoping  that  the  brac 
ing  air  of  the  ocean  which  he  greatly  loved,  the  respite 
from  labor,  the  change  of  scene,  the  cheerful  intercourse, 
which  he  was  so  well  calculated  to  enjoy  with  congenial 
spirits  abroad,  would  return  him  to  us  refreshed  and  reno 
vated  ;  but  he  has  come  back  to  us  dust  and  ashes,  a  pil 
grim  already  on  his  way  to 

"The  undiscovered  country  from  whose  bourne 
No  traveler  returns." 

How  could  I  refuse  to  bear  my  humble  part  in  the  trib 
ute  of  respect  which  you  are  assembled  to  pay  to  the  mem- 


508     KEMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     OHO  ATE. 

cry  of  such  a  man  ;  a  man  not  only  honored  by  me  in 
common  with  the  whole  country,  but  tenderly  cherished  as 
a  faithful  friend,  from  the  morning  of  his  days,  and  almost 
from  the  morning  of  mine  ;  one  with  whom  through  life  I 
was  delighted  to  take  sweet  counsel — for  whom  I  felt  an 
affection  never  chilled  for  a  moment,  during  nearly  forty 
years  since  it  sprung  up.  I  knew  our  dear  friend,  sir,  from 
the  time  he  entered  the  Law  School  at  Cambridge.  I  was 
associated  with  him  as  one  of  the  Massachusetts  delegation 
in  the  House  of  Kepresentatives  of  the  United  States,  be 
tween  whom  and  myself  there  was  an  entire  community  of 
feeling  and  opinion  on  all  questions  of  men  and  measures, 
and  with  whom,  in  these  later  years,  as  his  near  neighbor, 
and  especially  when  illness  confined  him  at  home,  I  have 
enjoyed  opportunities  of  the  most  intimate  social  inter 
course.  Now  that  he  is  gone,  sir,  I  feel  that  one  more  is 
taken  away  of  those  most  trusted  and  loved,  and  with 
whom  I  had  most  hoped  to  finish  the  journey  ;  nay,  sir, 
one  whom,  in  the  course  of  nature,  I  should  have  preceded 
to  its  end,  and  who  would  have  performed  for  me  the  last 
kindly  office,  which  I,  with  drooping  spirit,  would  fain  per 
form  for  him. 

But  although  with  a  willing  heart  I  undertake  the 
duty  you  have  devolved  upon  me,  I  can  not  but  feel  how 
little  remains  to  be  said.  It  is  but  echoing  the  voice  which 
has  been  heard  from  every  part  of  the  country — from  the 
Bar,  from  the  Press,  from  every  association  from  which 
it  could  with  propriety  be  uttered — to  say  that  he  stood 
at  the  head  of  his  profession  in  this  country.  If,  in  his  own 
or  in  any  other  part  of  the  Union,  there  was  his  superior 
in  any  branch  of  legal  knowledge,  there  was  certainly  no 
one  who  united,  to  the  same  extent,  profound  learning  in 
the  law  with  a  ran^e  almost  boundless  of  miscellaneous 


REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE.        509 

reading,  reasoning  powers  of  the  highest  order,  intuitive 
quickness  of  perception,  a  wariness  and  circumspection 
never  taken  by  surprise,  and  an  imagination  which  rose  on 
a  bold  and  easy  wing  to  the  highest  heaven  of  invention. 
These  powers,  trained  by  diligent  cultivation — these  at 
tainments,  combined  and  applied  with  sound  judgment, 
consummate  skill,  and  exquisite  taste,  necessarily  placed 
him  at  the  head  of  the  profession  of  his  choice,  where,  since 
the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  he  shone  without  a  rival.  With 
such  endowments  formed  at  the  best  schools  of  professional 
education,  exercised  with  unwearied  assiduity,  through  a 
long  professional  life,  under  the  spur  of  generous  ambition, 
and  the  heavy  responsibility  of  an  ever-growing  reputation 
to  be  sustained, — if  possible  to  be  raised, — he  could  fill  no 
second  place. 

But  he  did  not,  like  most  eminent  jurists,  content  him 
self  with  the  learning  and  the  fame  of  his  profession.  He 
was  more  than  most  men  in  any  profession,  in  the  best. 
sense  of  the  word,  a  man  of  letters.  He  kept  up  his  aca 
demical  studies  in  after  life.  He  did  not  think  it  the  part 
either  of  wisdom  or  good  taste  to  leave  behind  him  at. 
school,  or  at  college,  the  noble  languages  of  the  great  peo 
ples  of  antiquity  ;  but  he  continued  through  life  to  read 
the  Greek  and  Roman  classics.  He  was  also  familiar  with 
the  whole  range  of  English  literature  ;  and  he  had  a  re 
spectable  acquaintance  with  the  standard  French  authors. 
This  wide  and  varied  circle  of  reading  not  only  gave  a  lib 
eral  expansion  to  his  mind,  in  all  directions,  but  it  endowed 
him  with  a  great  wealth  of  choice  but  unstudied  language, 
and  enabled  him  to  command  a  richness  of  illustration — 
whatever  subject  he  had  in  hand — beyond  most  of  our 
public  speakers  and  writers.  This  taste  for  reading  was 
formed  in  early  life. 


510         REMINISCENCES     OF     RUFUS     CHOATE. 

While  lie  was  at  the  Law  School  at  Cambridge.,  I  was 
accustomed  to  meet  him  more  frequently  than  any  other 
person  of  his  standing,  in  the  alcoves  of  the  library  of  the 
University.  As  he  advanced  in  years  and  acquired  the 
means  of  gratifying  his  taste  in  this  respect,  he  formed  a 
miscellaneous  collection,  probably  as  valuable  as  any  other 
in  Boston  ;  and  he  was  accustomed  playfully  to  say  that 
every  Saturday  afternoon,  after  the  labor  of  the  week,  he 
indulged  himself  in  buying  and  bringing  home  a  new  book. 
Thus  reading  with  a  keen  relish,  as  a  relaxation  from  pro 
fessional  toil,  and  with  a  memory  that  nothing  worth 
retaining  escaped,  he  became  a  living  store-house  of  polite 
literature,  out  of  which,  with  rare  facility  and  gracej  he 
brought  forth  treasures  new  and  old,  not  deeming  these 
last  the  least  precious. 

Though  living  mainly  for  his  profession,  Mr.  Choate 
engaged  to  some  extent  in  public  life,  and  that  at  an  early 
age,  as  a  member  of  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  and 
of  the  national  House  of  Representatives,  and  in  riper 
years  as  a  Senator  of  the  United  States,  as  the  successor 
of  Mr.  Webster,  whose  entire  confidence  he  enjoyed,  and 
whose  place  he,  if  any  one,  was  not  unworthy  to  fill.  In 
these  different  positions  he  displayed  consummate  ability. 
His  appearance,  his  silent  demeanor  in  either  House  of 
Congress  commanded  respect.  He  was  one  of  the  few 
whose  very  presence  in  a  public  assembly  is  a  call  to  order. 
In  the  daily  routine  of  legislation  he  did  not  take  an  active 
part.  He  rather  shunned  clerical  work,  and  consequently 
avoided,  as  much  as  duty  permitted,  the  labor  of  the  com 
mittee  room  ;  but  on  every  great  question  that  came  up 
while  he  was  a  member  of  either  House  of  Congress,  he 
made  a  great  speech  ;  and  when  he  had  spoken  there  was 
very  little  left  for  any  one  else  to  say  on  the  same  side  of 


REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE.   511 

the  question.  I  remember,  on  one  occasion,  after  he  had 
been  defending,  on  broad  national  grounds,  the  policy  of 
affording  a  moderate  Protection  to  our  native  industry, 
showing  that  it  was  not  merely  a  local  but  a  national- 
interest,  and  seeking  to  establish  this  point  by  a  great 
variety  of  illustrations,  equally  novel  and  ingenious,  a 
Western  member,  who  had  hitherto  wholly  dissented  from 
this  view  of  the  subject,  exclaimed  that  he  "  was  the  most 
persuasive  speaker  he  had  ever  heard." 

But  though  abundantly  able  to  have  rilled  a  prominent 
place  among  the  distinguished  active  statesmen  of  the  day, 
he  had  little  fondness  for  political  life,  and  no  aptitude 
whatever  for  the  out-doors  management ;  for  the  election 
eering  legerdemain  ;  for  the  wearisome  correspondence  with 
local  great  men  ;  and  the  heart-breaking  drudgery  of  frank 
ing  cart-loads  of  speeches  and  public  documents  to  the  four 
winds,  which  are  necess-ary  at  the  present  day  to  great  suc 
cess  in  apolitical  career.  Still  less  adroit  was  he  in  turning 
to  some  personal  advantage  whatever  topic  happens  for  the 
moment  to  attract  public  attention  ;  fishing  with  over 
freshly  baited  hook  in  the  turbid  waters  of  an  ephemeral 
popularity.  In  reference  to  some  of  the  arts,  by  whu-h 
political  advancement  is  sought  and  obtained,  he  once  said 
to  me,  with  that  well-known  characteristic  look,  in  which 
sadness  and  compassionate  pleasantry  were  about  equally 
mingled  "  They  did  not  do  such  things  in  Washington's  days." 

If  ever  there  was  a  truly  disinterested  patriot,  Kufus 
Choate  was  that  man.  In  his  political  career  there  was  no 
shade  of  selfishness.  Had  he  been  willing  to  purchase 
advancement  at  the  price  often  paid  for  it,  there  never  was 
a  moment,  from  the  time  he  first  made  himself  felt  and 
known,  that  he  could  not  have  commanded  any  thing 
which  any  party  could  bestow.  But  he  desired  none  of 


512     REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

the  rewards  or  honors  of  success.  On  the  contrary  he,  not 
only  for  his  individual  self,  regarded  office  as  a  burden — 
an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  cultivation  of  his  professional 
and  literary  tastes — but  he  held  that  of  necessity,  and  in  con 
sequence  of  the  strong  tendency  of  our  parties  to  assume  a 
sectional  character,  conservative  opinions,  seeking  to  mod 
erate  between  the  extremes  which  agitate  the  country,  must 
of  necessity  be  in  the  minority  ;  that  it  was  the  "  mission' 
of  men  who  hold  such  opinions,  not  to  fill  honorable  and 
lucrative  posts  which  are  unavoidably  monopolized  by 
active  leaders,  but  to  speak  prudent  words  on  great  occa 
sions,  which  command  the  respect,  if  they  do  not  enlist  the 
sympathies,  of  both  the  conflicting  parties,  and  thus  insen 
sibly  influence  the  public  mind.  He  comprehended  and 
accepted  the  position  ;  he  knew  that  it  was  one  liable  to 
be  misunderstood,  and  sure  to  be  misrepresented  at  the 
time  ;  but  not  less  sure  to  be  justified  when  the  interests 
and  passions  of  the  day  are  buried,  as  they  are  now  for 
him,  beneath  the  clods  of  the  valley. 

But  this  ostracism,  to  which  his  conservative  opinions 
condemned  him,  produced  not  a  shade  of  bitterness  in  his 
feelings.  His  patriotism  was  as  cheerful  as  it  was  intense. 
He  regarded  our  confederated  republic,  with  its  wonderful 
adjustment  of  State  and  Federal  organisation  ; — the  States 
bearing  the  burden  and  descending  to  the  details  of  local 
administration,  the  General  Government  moulding  the 
whole  into  one  grand  nationality,  and  representing  it  in 
the  family  of  nations, — as  the  most  wonderful  phenome 
non  in  the  political  history  of  the  world.  Too  much  of  a 
statesman  to  join  the  unreflecting  disparagement,  with 
which  other  great  forms  of  national  polity  are  spoken  of  in 
this  country,  he  yet  considered  the  oldest,  the  wisest,  and 
the  most  successful  of  them,  the  British  Constitution,  as  a 


REMINISCENCES    OF     11  U  F  U  S    C  HO  ATE.          513 

far  less  wonderful  political  system  than  our  confederated 
republic. 

The  territorial  extent  of  the  country  ;  the  beautiful 
play  into  each  other  of  its  great  commercial,  agricultural, 
and  manufacturing  interests  ;  the  material  prosperity,  the 
advancements  in  arts,  and  letters,  and  manners  already 
made  ;  the  capacity  for  further  indefinite  progress  in  this 
vast  theater  of  action,  in  which  Providence  has  placed  the 
Anglo-American  race,  stretching  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific,  from  the  Arctic  Circle  to  the  Tropics,  were  themes 
on  which  he  dwelt  as  none  but  he  could  dwell ;  and  he  be 
lieved  that  with  patience,  with  mutual  forbearance,  with  a 
willingness  to  think  that  our  brethren,  however  widely  we 
may  differ  from  them,  may  be  as  honest  and  patriotic  as 
ourselves,  our  common  Country  would  eventually  reach  a 
height  of  prosperity  of  which  the  world  as  yet  has  seen  no 
example. 

With  such  gifts,  such  attainments,  and  such  a  spirit, 
he  placed  himself,  as  a  matter  of  course,  not  merely  at  the 
head  of  the  Jurists  and  Advocates,  but  of  the  public  Speak 
ers  of  the  country.  After  listening  to  him  at  the  Bar,  in 
the  Senate,  or  upon  the  academic  and  popular  platform, 
you  felt  that  you  had  heard  the  best  that  could  bo  heard 
in  either  place.  That  mastery  which  ho  had  displayed  at 
the  forum  and  in  the  deliberative  assembly  WHS  not  less 
conspicuous  in  every  other  form  of  public  address.  As 
happens  in  most  cases  of  eminent  jurists  and  statesmen, 
possessing  a  brilliant  imagination  and  able  to  adorn  a  se 
vere  course  of  reasoning  with  the  charms  of  a  glowing  fancy 
and  a  sparkling  style,  it  was  sometimes  said  of  him,  as  it 
was  said  before  him  of  Burke  and  Erskine,  of  Ames  and 
Pinkney — that  he  was  more  of  a  rhetorician  than  a  lo 
gician,  thnt  ho  dealt  in  words  and  figures  of  speech  more 


514       REMINISCE  N  C  E  S     O  F     R  U  F  U  8     C  11  O  ATE, 

than  in  facts  or  arguments.  These  are  the  invidious  com 
ments,  by  which  dull  or  prejudiced  men  seek  to  disparage 
those  gifts  which  are  furthest  from  their  own  reach. 

It  is  perhaps  by  his  discourses  on  academical  and  popu 
lar  occasions  that  he  is  most  extensively  known  in  the 
community,  as  it  is  these  which  were  listened  to  with  de 
lighted  admiration  by  the  largest  audiences.  He  loved  to 
treat  a  purely  literary  theme  ;  and  he  knew  how  to  throw 
a  magic  freshness — like  the  cool  morning  dew  on  a  cluster 
of  purple  grapes — over  the  most  familiar  topics  at  a  patri 
otic  celebration.  Some  of  these  occasional  performances 
will  ever  be  held  among  the  brightest  gems  of  our  litera 
ture.  The  eulogy  on  Daniel  Webster  at  Dartmouth  Col 
lege,  in  which  he  mingled  at  once  all  the  light  of  his  genius 
and  all  the  warmth  of  his  heart,  has,  within  my  knowledge, 
never  been  equaled  among  the  performances  of  its  class  in 
this  country  for  sympathetic  appreciation  of  a  great  man, 
discriminating  analysis  of  character,  fertility  of  illustration, 
weight  of  sentiment,  and  a  style  at  once  chaste,  nervous, 
and  brilliant,  The  long  sentences  which  have  been  criti 
cised  in  this,  as  in  his  other  performances,  are  like  those 
which  Dr.  Channing  admired  and  commended  in  Milton's 
prose — well  compacted,  full  of  meaning,  fit  vehicles  of 
great  thoughts. 

•But  he  does  not  deal  exclusively  in  those  ponderous 
sentences.  There  is  nothing  of  the  artificial  Johnsonian 
balance  in  his  style.  It  is  as  often  marked  by  a  pregnant 
brevity  as  by  a  sonorous  amplitude.  He  is  sometimes  sat 
isfied,  in  concise  epigrammatic  clauses,  to  skirmish  with 
his  light  troops  and  drive  in  the  enemy's  outposts.  It  is 
only  on  fitting  occasions,  when  great  principles  are  to  be 
vindicated  and  solemn  truths  told  ;  when  some  moral  or 
political  Waterloo  or  Solferino  is  to  be  fought,  that  ho 


REMINISCENCES     OF      R  U  F  U  S     OH  GATE.       515 

puts  on  the  entire  panoply  of  his  gorgeous  rhetoric.  It  is 
then  that  his  majestic  sentences  swell  to  the  dimensions  of 
his  thought  ;  that  you  hear  afar  off  the  awful  roar  of  his 
rifled  ordnance  ;  and  when  he  has  stormed  the  heights  and 
broken  the  center,  and  trampled  the  squares,  and  turned 
the  staggering  wings  of  the  adversary,  that  he  sounds  his 
imperial  clarion  along  the  whole  line  of  battle  and  moves 
forward  with  all  his  hosts  in  one  overwhelming  charge. 

Our  friend  was,  in  all  the  personal  relations  of  life,  the 
most  unselfish  and  disinterested  of  men.  Commanding 
from  an  early  period  a  valuable  clientage,  and  rising  rap 
idly  to  the  summit  of  his  profession,  and  to  the  best  prac 
tice  in  the  Courts  of  Massachusetts  and  in  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States,  with  no  expensive  tastes  or 
habits,  and  a  manner  of  life  wholly  unostentatious  and 
simple,  advancing  years  overtook  him  with  but  slender 
provision  for  their  decline.  He  reaped  little  but  fame 
where  he  ought  to  have  reaped  both  fame  and  fortune.  A 
career  which  in  England  would  have  been  crowned  with 
affluence,  and  probably  with  distinguished  rank  and  office, 
found  him  at  sixty  chained  to  the  treadmill  of  laborious 
practice. 

He  might,  indeed,  be  regarded  as  a  martyr  to  his  pro 
fession.  He  gave  to  it  his  time,  his  strength,  and  neglect 
ing  due  care  of  regular  bodily  exercise  arid  occasional  en 
tire  relaxation,  he  might  be  said  to  have  given  to  it  his  life. 
He  assumed  the  racking  anxieties  and  feverish  excitements 
of  his  clients.  From  the  Courts,  where  he  argued  the 
causes  entrusted  to  him  with  all  the  energy  of  his  intellect, 
rousing  into  corresponding  action  an  overtasked  nervous 
system,  these  cares  and  anxieties  followed  him  to  the  wea 
riness  of  his  midnight  vigils,  and  the  unrest  of  his  sleepless 
pillow.  In  this  way  he  led  a  long  professional  career,  worn 


516    REMINISCENCES  OF  RUFUS  CHOATE. 

and  harassed  with  other  men's  cares,  and  sacrificed  ten 
added  years  of  active  usefulness  to  the  intensity  with  which 
he  threw  himself  into  the  discharge  of  his  duties  in  middle 
life. 

There  are  other  recollections  of  our  friend's  career  — 
other  phases  of  his  character  on  which  I  would  gladly 
dwell  ;  but  the  hour  has  elapsed  and  it  is  not  necessary. 
The  gentlemen  who  have  preceded  rne,  his  professional 
brethren,  his  pastor,  the  press  of  the  country,  generously 
allowing  past  differences  of  opinion  to  be  buried  in  his 
grave,  have  more  than  made  up  for  any  deficiency  in  my 
remarks.  His  work  is  done  ;  nobly,  worthily  done.  Never 
more  in  the  temples  of  justice  —  never  more  in  the  Seriate 
Chamber  —  never  more  in  the  crowded  assembly  —  never 
more  in  this  consecrated  Hall,  where  he  so  often  held  lis 
tening  crowds  in  rapt  admiration,  shall  we  catch  the  un 
earthly  glance  of  his  eye  or  listen  to  the  strange  sweet 
music  of  his  voice.  To-morrow  we  shall  follow  him  —  the 
pure  patriot,  the  consummate  jurist,  the  eloquent  orator, 
the  honored  citizen,  the  beloved  friend  —  to  the  last  resting- 
place  ;  and  who  will  not  feel,  as  we  lay  him  there,  that  a 
brighter  genius  and  a  warmer  heart  are  not  left  among  liv 
ing  men  ! 


U/ 


10 


INDEX. 


AKINGER,  Lord,  174,  330. 
ACHILLES,  64. 
ADAMS,  JOHN,  456. 
AI>AMS,  JOHN  QUINCY,  Lectures,  122. 
Strength,  24T. 
ADAMS,  Rev.  Dr.,  75. 
ADAMS,  SAM.,  '262. 
yKscniNES,  IS.  281. 
AGAMEMNON,  64. 
AGINCOURT,  234. 
ALEXANDEE  TUE  GREAT,  92,  303. 
ALEXANDRIA,  426. 
ALLEN,  Woo  Ibury  vs.,  440. 
ALLSTON,  W.,  305. 
AMES,  FISHER,  Eulogy  on  Hamilton,  53. 

Oratory,  2S5. 
ANDOVEB,  case  at,  103. 
ANECDOTES,  book-keeping,  04. 

taking  a  fee,  95. 

Chodte  in  an  old-book  storo,100. 

answers  to  clients,  114. 

Webster  and  Choate,  141,  324, 
340. 

rebuke  of  incivility,  140. 

repartee  of  witness,  155. 

stopping  in  court,  108. 

grain  vessels,  161). 

classic  wealth  of  Choate,  IS  5. 

the  Chief  Justice,  -Oi. 

"miscellaneous"  person,  202. 

"shirtings,"  204. 

hall  at  Lowell,  213. 

Clay  and  Story,  254. 

Rantoul  and  Choate,  415 
AKAKELLA,  The,  146. 
ARISTOTLE,  122. 
ASIIHURTON,  Lord,  411. 
ASHTON,  Capt.,  115. 
ATHENS,  335. 
AUISURN,  Mount,  14. 

AUSTERLITZ,  22. 


It. 


BACON,  14,  124,  241. 

BALTIMORE,  Convention  of  1852,  65,  259. 

BANCROFT,  GEO.,  231. 

BANKS,  N.  P.,  estimate  of  Choate,  139. 

BATCIIELDER,  death  of,  473. 

BAYNE,  PETER,  101,  :>OL. 

BELL,  ABIGAIL,  209. 

BELL,  Dr.,  390. 

BELL,  JOHN,  286. 


BELL,  Mr.,  86. 
BENTON,  THOS.  II.,  184. 

Choate' s  estimate  of,  '297. 
opinion  of  Pinkney,  346. 
BICKFORD,  Mrs.,  219. 
BINGIIAM,  Howard  vs.,  483. 
BINNEY,  HORACE,  265. 
BLACKSTONE  EAILUOAD,  475. 
BLATCHFORD,  259. 
BLENNERHASSET,  72. 
BLTTCIIER,  235. 
BOLINGKROKE,  Lord,  14. 
works,  99. 
elocution,  124. 
style,  232. 
head,  253. 
intellect,  288. 
BOOTH,  EDWIN.  44,  208. 
BOOTH,  J.  B.,  187,436. 
BOSTON,  Ohoate  removes  to,  49. 
South,  209. 
East,  37.:3. 
Bos  WELL,  111. 
BOWDOIN  SQUARE,  221. 
BRACKETT,  Bust  of  Choate,  88. 
BRISTOL,  418. 
BROOKS,  JAMES,  499. 
BROOKS,  P.  S.,  -_92. 
BROUGHAM,  17. 

Choate' s  opinion  of,  101,  239. 
doctrine    of  a   lawyer's    duty 

133. 

temper,  254. 
science,  258. 
BROWN,  JAMES,  lasigi  vs.,  468. 

letter,  470. 
i  BRYANT,  WM.   C.,  resemblance  of  head, 

89. 

as  a  poet,  289,  493. 
BUCHANAN,  J.,  Choute's  reply  to,  50. 

supported  by'Choate,  76. 
speecli  for  at,  Lowell,  213. 
voted  for,  by  Choate,  292. 
BUCHANAN,  the  missionary,  250. 
BUENA  VISTA,  (!.!. 
BULLOCK,  Col.,  475. 
BULWER,  Sir  HENRY,  238,  274. 
BULWER,  Sir  EDWARD,  238. 
BURGESS,  TRISTRAM,  -243. 
BURLINGAME,  100. 
BURNIIAM'S  book.store,  99. 
BURNS,  ANTHONY,  47'?. 
BURKE,  EDMUND,  70,  232,243. 
traduced,  317. 
Gibbon  compared  with,  494 
BYRON,  264,  339. 


518 


INDEX. 


C. 


CJESAU,  JULIUS,  64,  234,  253. 

CALIIOUN,  J.  C.,  245,  441. 

CALIFORNIA,  501. 

CALKINS,  Dr.,  480. 

CAMBRIDGE,  503. 

CAIIDEN,  Lord,  opinion  of  witness  to  a  will, 

3S8. 

CAMPBELL,  Lives  of  Chancellors,  300. 
CANNING,  GEORGE,  300. 
CANNING,  Sir  STXATFORD,  238. 
CARLYLE,  Tuos.,  492. 
CARTHAGE,  803,  426. 
CARTER,  JAMES  G.,  394. 
CAVKRNY,  Mr.,  430. 
CHANDLER,  P.  W.,  opinion  of  Choate,  129, 

135. 

CIIANNINO,  WM.  E.,  514. 
CHARLEMAGNE,  234. 
CHARLES  II.,  King,  393. 
CHARLES,  St.,  219. 
CHARLF.STOWN,  436. 
CHATHAM,  voice,  188. 
studies,  251. 
power,  271,  322. 

•  Grattan  describes,  346. 

CHEISACCO,  40,  455. 
CHESAPEAKE,  234. 
CHESTERFIELD,  252,  321. 
CHICAGO,  422. 
CHOATE,  RUFUS,  standing  in  America,  13. 

of  national  repute  as  a  law 
yer,  14. 

personal  appearance,  19. 

author's  acquaintance  with, 
20. 

mental  characteristics,  21. 

conversation,  22. 

language,  24. 

birth,  2'J. 

enters  college,  30. 

graduation,  30. 

admitted  to  the  bar,  32. 

goes  to  Legislature,  32. 

to  Congress,  32. 

early  professional  life,  34. 

removes  to  Salem,  39. 

"  the  conjurer,"  41. 

attendance  at  church,  45. 

personal  appearance,  48. 

removes  to  Boston,  49. 

chosen  to  the  Senate,  49. 

speeches  there,  50. 

estimate  of  Clay,  51. 

returns  to  his  professional. 

attorney  general  of  Massa 
chusetts,  53. 

offered     attorney    general 
ship  of  U.  S.,54. 

would  have  accepted   for 
eign  mission,  56. 

patent  law,  56. 

accident  at  Dedham,  56. 

close  of  public  official  life, 
59. 

in    constitutional    conven 
tion,  60. 

visit  to  Europe,  60. 

great  speech,  on  judiciary, 
61. 


CHOATE,  RUFUS.  lecture  on  "The  Sea,"  6~>. 
Taylor  and  Webster  cam 
paign,  63. 

speech  at    Baltimore  con 
vention,  65. 

eulogy  on  Webster,  66. 
opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  72. 
history  of  Greece,  73. 
use  of  narcotics,  74. 
supports  Buchanan,  76. 
personal  appearance,  79. 
love  of  books,  81. 
studies  German.  82. 
plan  of  study,  84. 
sociability,  87. 
humor,  87. 
keeping  accoimts,  94. 
fees,  95. 

opinion  of  Webster,  99. 
exactness  of  reference,  102. 
taste  for  drama,  104. 
modesty,  106. 

opposed  to  Saltonstall,  108. 
criminal  practice,  110. 
favorite  book  on  evidence, 

112. 

theory  of  study  of  law,  US. 
practice  of  eloquence,  123. 
treatment  of  the  bar,  125. 
Mr.  Chandler's  opinion  of, 

129. 

bearing  in  court,  138. 
ideal  of  a  judge,  147. 
method  of  arguing,  157. 
handling  of  evidence,  175. 
classic  familiarity,  182. 
esprit  de  corps,  194. 
Tirrell  case,  216,  238. 
theory  of  expression,  248- 

26.). 

opinion  of  slavery,  291. 
vote  for  Buchanan,  292. 
supreme  bench,  299. 
theory  of  collegiate  educa 
tion,  307. 
argument    on    removal  of 

judicial  officers,  394. 
city  of  Roxbury,  443. 
lecture  on  Rogers,  4S9. 
on  revolutionarj  eloquence, 

494. 

economy  of  time,  501. 
home  memories,  5'.)1. 
personal  habits,  50H. 
CHOATE  vs.  Burnham,  44. 
CICERO,  61. 

Choate' s  estimate  of,  82. 
tremulous  voice,  105. 
vocabulary,  122. 
Choate' s  familiarity  with,  214. 
wronged,  317. 
in  Choate' s  lectures,  495. 
CLARENDON,  14,  124. 
CLAY,  CASSIUS  M.,  490. 
CLAY,  HENRY,  encounter  with  Choate,  50. 
fine  actor,  14i. 
department  of  politics,  238. 
oratory,  244. 

urges  Webster  to  leave  Cab 
inet,  'J95. 
natural  orator,  322. 


INDEX. 


519 


CLAY,  HENRY,  style,  345. 

Choate's  admiration  of,  500. 
CLAYTON,  JOHN  M.,  2S6. 
CLIFFORD,  JOHN  II.,  attorney  general  of 

Massachusetts,  53. 
In.  the  lasigi  case,  463. 
Tilton  case.  4S5. 

COIJUBS-,  witness  in  D.ilton  case,  479. 
COKE,  241. 

on  Littleton,  265. 
CONNECTICUT,  425. 
CONSTANTINOPLE,  101. 
CONSTITUTION,  234. 

removal,  by  address,  395. 
CONSTITUTIONAL  CONVENTION,  60,  215,  504. 
COBNUUBY,  Lord,  14. 
COH\VIN,  TOM,  802. 
COITEIEB,  Boston,  313. 
COUET  STKEET,  No.  4,  91. 
COWLES,  Rev.  Mr.,  45. 
COWPEB,  WM.,  333. 
CEAFTS,  Mr.,  case  of  insurance,  411. 
CBESSY,  234. 
CUMMINGS,  Judge,  Choate  enters  office,  32. 

at  the  bar,  43. 
CUEBAN,  13. 

master  of  the  rolls,  54. 
opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  72. 
compared  with  Choate,  352. 
in  the  Massey  case,  483. 
CUETIS,  B.  II..  resignation  as  judge  Supreme 

Court,  54. 

opinion  of  Choate,  228. 
CUETIS,  T.  B.,  470. 
CUSHING,  CALEU,  43,  262,  285. 


D. 


DALTON  divorce  case,  212,  477. 
DALTON,  FEANK,  477. 
DANA,  RICHARD  H.,  28D,  493. 
DANA,  RICIIAED  II.,  Jr.,  eulogy  of  Choate,! 6. 
in  the  Dalton  case,  479. 
DANE  LAW  SCHOOL,  '20. 

Choate  enters,  31. 

DANVEBS,  Choate  opens  office  at,  32. 
South,  36. 
petition,  373. 

DAETMOUTH  COLLEGE,  Choate's  eulogy  of 
Webster  at,  10,  66. 
Choate  enters,  30. 
DEDHAM,  Choate's  accident  at,  56. 

South,  416. 
DEMOSTHENES,  18. 

Choate's  estimate  of,  8.1,  245, 

317. 
DE  QUINCET,  THOMAS,  24,  101. 

Idealist,  339. 
DEBUT,  Lord,  17. 
DE  STAEL,  Madame,  491. 
DEWEY,  Judge,  219. 

charge  in  Tirrell  case,  223, 

224. 
DEXTEB,  SAM.,  antagonist  of  Choate,  54. 

fame,  298, 
DIOGENES,  64. 

D'  fSBAELI,  2(50. 
DORCHESTER,  315. 

DSHD  SCOTT  Case,  228. 
DUDLEY,  Mr.,  448. 


DUEE,  Judge,  253. 
DUNKIRK,  424. 
DUEANT,  H.  F.,  482,  487. 


EAELY,  Dr.,  436. 

EASTMAN  and  Fondey,  355. 

EDMONDS,  Gen.  B.  F.,  472. 

ELLIS,  Mr.,  counsel  in  Burns  assault  case, 

473. 
EBSKINE,  13. 

chancellor,  54. 
opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  72. 
correctness,  244. 
knowledge  of  men,  257. 
easily  disturbed,  268. 
compared  with  Choate,  352. 
ESSEX  bar,  18. 

county,  29. 
EURIPIDES,  305. 
EUROPE,  Choate  visits,  60. 
EUEYDICE,  4'.)6. 

EUSTATIUS,  archbishop  of  Thessalonica,  101. 
EVERETT,  EI>WABI>,  panegyric  of  Choate,  16. 
invited  to  deliver  Web 
ster's  eulogy  in  Boston, 
66. 

tremulous  gesture,  188. 
in  Congress,  260, 
elocutionary  power,  269. 
sketch  of,  314. 
eulogy  in  Faneuil  Hall, 
506. 


P. 


FANEUIL  HALL,  eulogy  in,  16. 

exertion  at,  57. 

eulogy  by  Everett,  506. 
FILLMOEE,  MILLAED,  76,  282,  286. 
FONDEY,  Eastman  and,  355. 
FONTENOY,  284. 

Fox,  CHARLES  JAMES,  as  a  writer,  74,  251. 
FRANCE,  287. 

FRANKLIN,  Sir  JOHN,  414. 
FREDERIC  of  Prussia,  279. 
FKEMONT,  JOHN  C.,  76,  291. 
FEKEE,  288. 
FULL  AM,  stables,  221. 
FULTON,  ROUT.,  441. 


GAVAZZI,  Father,  344. 
GLADSTONE,  17. 
GIBBON,  232,  243. 

compared  with  Barke,  494. 
GIBKS,  MARSHAL,  365. 
GILLESPIE,  Rev.  JOHN  B.,  case,  430. 
GODDAED,  Mr.,  472. 
GOETHE,  264. 

GOODRICH,  Book  of  Orators,  266. 
GOODRICH,  CHAS.  B.,  462. 
GOUGH,  JOHN  B.,  344. 
GOVE,  HELEN,  477. 

GOVE,  Mr.,  father  of  Mrs.  Dalton,  481. 
GEATTAN,  Choate's  opinion  of,  101,  301. 


520 


INDEX. 


GRATTAN,  voice,  155. 

to  be  read,  251. 

traduced,  317. 

opinion  of  Chatham,  340. 
GBKBKLEAP,  Prof.,  compares   Choate  with 

Webster,  53. 
GROTE,  232. 
GROTIUS,  317. 
GROUCHY,  235. 
GUEEKIEBE,  234. 
GUICCIABDINI,  293. 


H. 


HALE,  JOHN  P.,  473. 

HALIFAX,  27. 

II  ALL  AM,  405. 

HAV,  303. 

HAMILTON,  ALEX.,  Ames's  eulogy  on,  5S. 

preparation     of     argu 
ment,  1G5,  252. 
traduced,  317. 
reply  to\Vashington,471. 
HAMILTON,  Sir  W.M.,  286. 
HANCOCK,  JOHN,  263. 
HANNIIJAL,  30;!. 
HARRINGTON,  401. 
HARRISON,  WM.  II.,  319. 
HARTFORD,  42  k 
HARTFORD  CONVENTION,  239. 
HABVEY,  PETES,  332. 
HAYTI,  330. 
HE.YD,  Mr.,  221. 
HEADFORD,  Marquis  of,  433. 
HENRY,  PATRICK,  261,  202. 

oratory,  2S5,  322. 
HU.LARD,  GEO.  S.,  92,  109. 

argument    at    Dedham, 
282. 

conversation  withOhoate, 

_   294. 

insurance  case,  474. 
HOFFMAN,  OGDF.N,  14,  352. 
HOLMES,  OLIVER  WENDELL,  213. 
HOLT,  Judge,  147. 
HOMES,  Iliad,  185,  232. 
HOOKEB,  Archbishop,  124. 
HOB  ACE,  233,  243. 
HORTENSIUS,  15. 

article  on,  102. 
HoWAEi)  vs.  Bingham,  483. 
HOWE,  Mr.,  448. 
HUUKARD,  Judge,  219. 
HUME,  232,  236. 


I. 


IASIGI,  JOSEPH,  vs.  Brown,  468. 
IPSWICH,  birth-place  of  Choate,  29. 

Turkey  case  at.  40. 

Old  and  New,  455. 
IRVING,  EDWABD,  272. 

I8OCBATE8,  122. 

J. 

JACKSON,  ANDREW,  245. 
JAMAICA  PLAIN,  454. 
JEFFREY,  Lord,  258,  271. 
JEFFERSON,  THOMAS,  400. 
J  I:\VETT,  HELEN,  221. 


JOHNSON,  Dr.,  estimate  of  men,  23. 

answer  to  Boswell,  111. 

style,  2S2,  243. 
JONES,  Sir  WM.,  250. 
JONES  vs.  Pickering,  44. 
JOSEPH,  King,  158. 
JUSTINIAN,  288. 
JUVENAL,  233. 

K. 

KANSAS,  281. 
KEAN,  EDMUND,  1S7. 
KEMIJLE,  CIIAS.,  253. 
KKMIJLE,  FANNY,  readings,  104. 
KENT,  Judge,  147. 
KOSSUTH,  106,  253,  343. 
eloquence,  495. 

L. 

LAFAYETTE,  301. 
LA  PLACE,  236. 
LAWRENCE,  city  of,  466. 
LAWRENCE,  JOEL,  219. 
LEGARE,  H.  S.,  14. 

article  on  Demosthenes,  245, 
LEMPRIERE,  303. 
LEONIDAS,  492. 
LINDEN,  Mr.,  436. 
LIVERPOOL,  303. 

location,  426. 
LIVY,  402. 
Lorn,  22. 
LONDON,  310. 

location,  416. 

Choate  visits,  60. 
LONGFELLOW,  H.  W.,  289. 
LORD,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 

Choate' s  opinion  of,  286. 
LOWELL,  speech  at,  213. 
LUNT,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 
LYNN,  373. 


M. 


MACAULAY,  69,  236,  243,  271. 

History,  '287. 
MACKINTOSH,  239. 
MACREADY,  203. 
MADISON,  JAMES,  400. 
MAGENTA,  188. 
MAINE,  429. 

MANSFIELD,  Judge,  147,  275. 
MARHLEIIEAD,  882. 
MAROELLUS,  253. 
MARSH,  GEORGE  P.,  34. 
MARSHALL,  Judge,  147. 
MARSH  FIELD,  210. 
MARTIN,  Capt.,  330. 

case,  416. 

MASSACHUSETTS,  boundary  of,  392. 
MASSEY  vs.  Marquis  of  Headford,  483. 
MASON,  JEREMIAH,  antagonist  of  Choate,  54. 

manner,  212. 
MAYFLOWER,  The,  146. 
McCoRMiCK,  255. 
MCDUFFIE,  Choate's  passage  at  arms  with, 

MCLEAN,  JOHN,  286. 

MERCANTILE  LIIJRAEY,  Boston,  Choate's  lec 
tures  before,  53, 
439,  494. 


INDEX. 


521 


MEBBIOK,  Judge,  479. 
MERBILL,  AMOS  13.,  219,  226. 
MEKBILL,  ANNIS,  219. 

opens  Tirrell  case,  221. 
METHODIST  CHUECH  CASE,  201. 
MEXICO,  war  in,  '262. 
MILTON,  232. 
MINOT'S  LEDGE,  203. 
MIBAHEAU,  '267,  323. 
MITFOED,  '232. 
MONTEEEY,  63. 
MOBTON,  Judge,  45. 
MOSES,  262. 

MT.  VEENON  AVENUE,  219. 
MUMFOBD  Case,  37. 

N. 

NAPOLEON  I.,  22,  1S8. 
NAPOLEON  III.,  193. 
NELSON,  Admiral,  83. 
NEKEID,  case  of,  257. 
NEW  OELEANS,  '2-21,  426. 
NEW  BEDFOED,  336. 
NEW  POET,  236. 
NEW  YOBK,  201,  2-21. 

compared  with  Liverpool,  309. 

situation,  426. 
NIEBUUB,  235. 

O. 

O'CoNNELL,  DAN.,  344. 
OLD  COLONY  RAILEOAD,  210. 
ORPHEUS,  490. 
OTIS  HABBISON  GBAY,  243,  255. 

compared  with  Erer- 
ett,  285. 

oratorical,  344. 
OTIS,  JAMES,  428. 

P. 

PAEIS,  Choate  visits,  60,  311. 
PABK,  JOHN  C.,  405,  475. 
PARKE:J,  Chief  Justice,  45. 
PAEKEB,  S.  1).,  219,  223. 
PABBY,  Capt.,  336. 
PAESONS,  Judge,  147,  389. 
PEAIJODY  INSTITUTE,  opening  of,  81. 
PEEL,  Sir  ROIJERT,  17,  242. 
PELISSIEE,  Marshal,  287. 
PKBICLES,  154,  303. 
PEBIUNS,  THOMAS,  462. 
PERSIA,  304,  422. 
PETTEE  RAILROAD  ROUTE,  476. 
PHELPS,  T.  P.,  385. 
PHILLIPS  ACADEMY,  270. 
PHILLIPS  on  Evidence,  112. 
PHILLIPS,  WENDELL,  343. 
PICKERFNG,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 
PIEBCE,  FRANKLIN,  276. 
PINDAR,  277. 
PINGBEE,  DAVID,  failure,  460. 

PlNKNEY,  W.M.,  14. 

Choate' s  admiration  of,  31. 

opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  72, 

vanity,  17  L 

length  of  argument,  180. 

rhetoric,  256. 

mind,  263. 

easily  disturbed,  268. 


PINKNEY,  "CV"M.,  velocity  of  speech,  346. 

compared  with  Choate,  352. 
PINO,  Duke,  330. 
PITT,  WILLIAM,  language,  122. 

oratory,  244,  271. 
PLAUTUS,  123,  232. 
PLINY,  the  Younger,  184. 
POPE,  ALEXANDER,  243. 
PEENTISS,  14. 

opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  72. 

gaming,  286. 
PEESCOTT,  WM.  H.,  288. 
PUTNAM,  Judge,  45. 
PUTNAM'S  MAGAZINE,  312. 

article  from,  321. 

Q. 

QUAKEK  case,  195. 
QUINTILIAN,  122,  242. 


RACHEL,  351. 
RANDOLPH,  JOHN,  51. 
RANTOUL,  ROIJEET,  Jr.,  265,  285. 

Choate's  joke  on,415. 
REED,  Mrs ,  436. 
RHODE  ISLAND,  boundary,  392. 
RICE,  Col.,  185. 
RICHAKD  III.,  'J07,  486. 
RIDGEWAY  LANE,  221. 
Rio  JANEIBO,  484. 
ROBERTSON,  236. 
ROBINSON,  221. 
ROGEBS,  SAMUEL,  289. 

lecture  on,  489. 

ROMILLY,  solicitor  general,  310. 
ROUSSEAU,  267. 
ROXUUBY,  443. 
RUSSIA,  235. 


SALEM,  Choate  studies  at,  32. 

Choate's  first  appearance  at  court, 
in,  36. 

witchcraft  revived  at,  41. 

Choate  removes  to,  39. 

speech  at,  208. 

railroad,  375. 

the  ladies  of,  497. 
SALLUST,  242. 

SALTONSTALL,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 
opposes  Choate,  108. 
SAN  DOMINGO,  330. 
SANTA  ANNA,  63. 
SAUGUS,  373. 

SAVAGE,  EZEKIEL,  police  judge,  36. 
SCAHLETT,  Sir  JAMES,  174,  330. 
SCHLEGEL,  364. 
SCIPIO,  tomb  of,  14. 
SCOTT,  Gen.,  nominated  for  President,  66, 

259. 

election,  262. 
SCOTT,  WALTER,  492. 
SENECA,  278. 
SEWALL,  Rev.  Mr.,  45. 
SEWAED,  WM.  H.,  232. 
SHAW,  Chief  Justice,  201. 
SHAW  vs.  Worcester  R.  R.,  184,  211,  435 
SIIEM,  303. 


522 


INDEX. 


SHKBIDAN,  to  be  read,  '251. 
SIIIEL,  RICIIABD  LALOE,  155,  302. 
SHILLAUEB,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 

SlIYLOCK,  1ST. 

SIDDONS,  Mrs.,  1ST,  253. 
SIDNEY,  31T. 

SlIAKESPEABE,  232. 

SMALL,  JOHN,  364. 

SMITH,  Capt.,  414. 

SMITH,  J.  V.  C.,  4T3. 

SMITH,  OLIVEE,  Will  case,  385. 

SMITHSONIAN  INSTITUTION,  68. 

SOCIETY,  Mass.  Hist.,  GS,  129. 

N.  E.  Hist.  Geneal.,  68. 

New  England  at  New  York,  180. 
SOCEVTES,  335. 
SOLFEBINO,  160. 
SOLOMON,  242. 
SOLOUQUE,  330. 
SOMKHS,  317. 

SOUTHEY,  83. 

STANLEY,  IT. 
ST.  HELENA,  22,  203. 
STOCKDALE,  divorce  case,  483. 
STONE,  Dr.  J.  W.,  41 G. 
STOBY,  Judge,  14T,  24T,  263. 

description  of  Pinkney,  483. 
SUETONIUS,  242. 
SUPTOLK  BAE,  meeting  of,  IT. 
SUMNEE,  BEADFOED,  209. 
SUMNEE,  CUAELES,  in  constitutional  conven 
tion,  60. 

office,  92. 

position,  2T8. 

writes  to  Webster,  295. 
SUMNEK,  ME.,  in  the  Dalton  case,  4TT. 
SWIFT,  DEAN,  233. 
SVVITZEBLAND,  Choate  visits,  60 


T. 


TACITUS,  69,  123,  232,  241,  2TT,  293. 
TALFOUED,  NOON,  2T5,  303. 
TALMA,  183. 

TAYLOE,  ZACHAEY,  candidate  for  presiden 
cy,  63,  49T. 

TENNYSON,  ALFEED,  289. 
TizrrciTOEiES,  S.  W.,  camels  for,  68. 
THEMISTOCLES,  303. 
TIIIELWALL,  232. 
THOMPSON,  OEIN,  4T1. 
THOMPSON,  town  of,  423. 

TlIOBWALDSEN,  198. 

TUUCYDIDES,  232,  242. 

THUESTON,  Mr.,  410. 

TIUEEIAS,  242. 

TILTON,  insurance  case,  484. 

TniEF.LL,  ALIIEBT  J.,  case,  52,  216. 

TOWLE,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  432. 

TBAJAN,  183. 

TSIHUNE,  New  York,  82,  494. 

TUBNEE,  SHAEON,  232. 

TCEKEY  case,  40. 

T  \viss'  Livy,  233, 

TYEE,  426. 


VENICE,  426. 
VINET,  2T5. 


V. 


W. 


WALKER,  Pres.,  2T3. 

WALKER,  Rev.  Mr.,  45. 

WALPOLE  RAILBOAD,  4T5. 

WABU,  at  the  Essex  bar,  48. 

WAEEEN,  WILLIAM,  104. 

WASHBURN,  Judge,  359. 

WASHINGTON,  author  introduced  to  Choate 

at,  19. 

opinion  of  Choate  at,  23. 
Choate  goes  to,  31. 
WASHINGTON,  GEOBGE,  318,  40T. 
WATEELOO,  235. 
WEI3STEE,  DANIEL,  opinion  of  Choate,  10. 

compared  with  Pinkney, 
31. 

goes  into  the  Cabinet,SO. 

candidate  for  Pres.,  63. 

Choate' s  eulogy  of,  66. 

Choate' s  estimate  of,  99. 

argument  in  Knapp  case, 

strength  in  causes,  145. 
management    of    testi 
mony,  181. 
resemblance  to  Choatu, 

19T. 
department  of   politics, 

238. 

his  prime,  244. 
Adams     and     Jefferson 

eulogy,  252. 

compared  withStory,263. 
Hayne  speech,  296. 
Choate' s  article  on,  SIT. 
Oliver  Smith  will  case, 

385. 

WEIJSTEE,  Prof.,  218,  238,  242,  2T2. 
WELLINGTON,  Duke  of,  64,  235. 
WEYMOUTH,  219. 
WIIEATON,  239. 
WHITEFIELD,  252,  2S5. 
WHITING,  Mr.,  440. 
WHITNEY,  Inventor,  440. 
WILUE,  Judge,  45. 

opinion  of  Tirrell  case,  218. 
judge  on  do.,  219,  224. 
WILDE,  Sir  J.,  310. 
WILLIAMS,  ROGER,  393. 
WILSON,  Prof.,  234,  ?53. 
WILSON,  witness  in  Craft's  case,  411. 
WINTHROP,  23T. 
WIBT,  WM.,  14. 

Choate  enters  office,  31. 
opportunity  as  a  lawyer,  T2. 
character,  2T1. 
WISCONSIN,  35. 

WlTIllNGTON,  408. 

WOODBURY,  Judge,  246. 

WooniniRY  vs.  Allen,  440. 

WOODWARD,  Dr.,  390. 

WOONSOCKET,  4T5. 

WOECESTEE  R.  R.,  Shaw  vs.,  184,  211,  4S5. 


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